


Spark of Life

by shimmer_writer



Category: Black Panther (2018), Black Panther (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-08-14 05:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 99,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16486490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shimmer_writer/pseuds/shimmer_writer
Summary: So here’s my Jenna/T’Challa series – Spark of Life.I decided that I’d post what I have for this series and then update periodically. In any case, this takes place within my Breaking Boundaries and Breaking Walls series, but the focus is on Jenna Dawson.She’s mentioned in my Breakthrough story and this story is from her perspective.I hope you connect with her as much as you did with Shae!I have some ideas on how I want these stories to tie together, but they’re still in the ideas phase. My hope is to give you guys something that is engaging and entertaining.I truly appreciate all the wonderful and heartfelt feedback I’ve gotten on my work so far. It is truly a motivation and inspiration to see that others like and value my work and I will always feel blessed by the BP fandom.





	1. Chapter 1

 

_This is some bullshit._

Not the most helpful thought when you’re staring down the barrel of the gun, but I’ve never been one to think of normal things in tense situations.

The gun shakes as the man keeps it aimed at me, his other hand holding his stomach as he takes in ragged breaths. I had been careless to turn my back on him when I first struck him, but I hadn’t expected him to recover so quickly.

I shift slightly and he takes a small step back, but keeps his hand raised.

“I don’t know what the fuck you are,” he hisses. “But I bet you can’t take a bullet.”

I raise a brow but don’t respond. All I wanted was to be at home, snuggled into bed and resting my aching body before I have to do the mindless duty of retail all over again.

There’s a small noise behind me and I spare a quick glance over my shoulder. The woman who I had rescued was pressed against the brick wall of the building behind us, not quite using me as a shield. Her eyes dart to the opening of the alleyway and I tilt my head slightly.

“Don’t run,” I say and she looks back at me. “It’s better if you just stay behind me.”

She blinks but stays where she is. Well, at least she listens to me.

I turn back to the man and he’s still scowling and gripping at his stomach.

“Put the gun down,” I say, keeping my voice calm. “It won’t help you.”

The words come out slightly muffled behind the scarf around my mouth, but I know from his hesitation that he heard me. He stares at me, his assessment warier than when I first stepped into the alleyway. They land on my exposed fingers from my fingerless gloves, where a glow of energy had just seconds ago engulfed my whole hand when I had struck him in the stomach. I can sense the rolling emotions coming off of him - anger, frustration, disgust.

But I know it’s the fear that makes him pull the trigger.

The woman behind me screams, but she doesn’t run and pushes herself against me. I’m relieved that the witness of my powers hasn’t made her more afraid of me than him.

I narrow my eyes at the man and he stares back at me, shock clear on his face. He can’t see the shield that I threw up around me and the woman. It’s invisible to the naked eye and there’s not enough light to give away the shimmer that signals there’s something in front of me.

“Fuck,” he hisses, and I see his finger twitch on the trigger.

“I wouldn’t…” I try, but another gunshot cuts off my words.

I see the spark against the shield as the bullet ricochets off and strikes the man in the arm.

“Never mind,” I mumble.

He screams and drops the gun, his hand other hand coming up to clutch his arm.

With an aggravated sigh, I lift my hand and push out the shield around me and slam it into him. The force throws him back and slams him against the brick wall behind him. With a groan, he slumps down to the ground, still clutching his arm. When he pulls his hand from his arm, I can see the blood staining his palm.

“Shit,” he whispers and winces as he presses against the wound again.

I didn’t know who he or the woman was. I had come across them in this alley on my usual trek to the parking lot. I tended to park farther from Kevin’s Arts and Krafts Supply Store, because the few parking spots were reserved for managers and customers, and I was too cheap to pay for closer parking.

I was coming off the night shift and had seen the familiar shape of my car in the distance when I had sensed the woman’s fear for the first time. When I looked down the alleyway, I hadn’t noticed them at first. The lampposts were spread out along the street and the alley was one of the pockets that remained in shadows. But the clouds had drifted overhead and the moonlight had made it easy to see what was happening. 

It was always a danger walking home at night as a woman.

Shaking my head, I now walk towards him and kick the gun away before he can reach for it again. Crouching in front of him, I reach my glowing fingertips forward and flick them against his stomach. The energy sparks against him and he hisses and hunches over, trying to shield his body from me.

He was breathing heavily and a line of sweat had broken out across his brow.

“What did,” he tried and took a shuddering breath. “You do to me?”

I inclined my head slightly.

“You’re not dying, if that’s what you’re asking,” I responded. “Some internal bruising, but...”

I glanced at the woman behind me, taking in her smeared lipstick and the scratch across her forehead.

“You’re getting off lucky,” I said and turned my gaze back to him. “It’s taking a lot of self-control to make sure it’s not worse. I could have made your heart stop.”

I don’t know if I could. I’ve never tried, but with my powers of energy manipulation, the theory that I could stop his heart with a concentrated jolt isn’t too far off. At least I think so. But he didn’t need to know that.

 “Look,” he said before pausing to swallow. “This was just a misunderstanding.”

I arched a brow.

“Before or after you tried to rape her and pulled a gun on us?” I asked. “Or was it when you shot at me, point blank?”

I jabbed my finger into his stomach again and let the energy jolt into his center. He cried out and curled into himself.

“Fuck you,” he hissed, but there was a strain to his voice.

I flicked my finger against his ear and he screamed and threw his hand to cover it. I watched him, feeling a sense of dark satisfaction. I didn’t know if she was his first victim, but I was determined for her to be his last.

“Let this be a ‘come to Jesus’ moment for you,” I hissed at him. “If you so much as even look at a woman in a vaguely threatening manner, I will find you. If you even think about putting your hands on a woman without her permission, I will fucking track you down. I know your energy now and I can find you anywhere. And I’ll know if you do.”

Another bluff. I can concentrate and memorize people’s energy patterns, but it’s no good if they’re not in close range to me. But when people didn’t know how your powers worked, it was easy to make them believe anything.

“I’m going to need some sort of confirmation,” I said lightly when he continued to stare at me.

His jaw worked a few times before he bit out “yes.”

“Yes what?” I demanded.

He glanced over at the woman and then to me.

“I understand,” he said tightly. “I’ll leave her alone.” 

“Or?”

I could see the hate in his eyes, could see that the humiliation would make this lesson last longer.

“Or you’ll come for me,” he finished.

People were predictable when it came to pain. The same man who had been ripping at the woman’s clothes earlier was now cowering in front of me. All because I had shown I wasn’t someone to fuck with. It shouldn’t have taken him getting the shit kicked out of him for him to understand the concept of ‘no.’

 “Now apologize.”

He stared at me and I twiddled my fingers at him. He sucked in a breath and turned his gaze to the woman. She was staring at us, eyes darting between him and me. When he focused his attention on her, she tensed.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“I don’t think she heard you,” I said and he shot me an angry look. I returned his gaze evenly and he swallowed and looked at the woman again.

“I’m sorry,” he said louder and there was a tremor to his voice.

She just looked at him, her lips pressed together. His gaze went back to me, reluctantly.

“Good boy,” I said and patted his cheek. He jerked his hand from my touch, expecting pain, and I smirked.

I rose to my feet and dusted off my pants. When I went to turn from him, he let out a disgruntled noise.

“You’re just going to leave me here?!”

I stopped and looked back at him. The blood was soaking through the sleeve of his jacket and he winced every time he moved it.

“You have a cell phone, don’t you?” I retorted.  

He sneered at me, watching as I moved to turn away again.

“They’re looking for people like you,” he groused at me. “I heard they have a list and everything.”

I paused, then titled my head at him. I understood that risk when I stepped into the alleyway. It’s why I covered my face and tried to keep my voice low. But I wasn’t intimidated by him. He was weak and cowardly and cruel and all I could feel was contempt at his threat.

“Maybe,” I mused, watching him. “I should just let you bleed to death. Or just finish you off.”

He furrowed his brows at me and I glanced at the woman.

“What do you think?”

She glared at him, her hands clutching at her designer purse.

“Fine by me,” she said and wiped at the blood on her forehead.

I turned back to the man and his eyes widened when he saw my fingertips glow again.

“Don’t!” He said, frantic and leaned away from me. “I wasn’t...I won’t say anything.”

I wasn’t really sure if I believed him. But I could sense his fear and knew he’d do anything to not have to see me again.

Fear and pain – the two biggest motivators to get people to do anything.

___________________

I don’t know if the man called 911. I left him in the alleyway and the woman trailed behind me, sending one last disgusted look over her shoulder. I hadn’t been sure what she was going to do when we started walking down the sidewalk again, but she kept pace with me, not speaking.

Her high heels clicked loudly against the pavement as she walked next to me and every once in a while, she’d sniffle. I wasn’t sure what to do, but it didn’t really seem right to send her away. I could tell she didn’t want to be alone.

I watched her out of the corner of my eye, taking in her appearance for the first time properly. She was wearing a long beige coat with fur lining and white gloves. Her cornrows were neatly styled and I could see the scratch on her forehead wasn’t as bad as I thought. The ruby red of her lipstick complimented the darkness of her skin well and the eye makeup was very tasteful. She was way more fashionable than me and likely had way more money than I did.  

Her coat was open and I could see a silk, pink blouse and black dress pants. The two buttons on the top of her blouse were torn off and I watched as she tugged her coat closed. Then she smoothed her hands down her coat and adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder.

“Why did you help me?”

The sudden question had me lifting my gaze to meet her eyes. I shrugged and adjusted my crossbody purse slightly.

“I felt your fear and knew I couldn’t walk away,” I said. “Wasn’t how I was raised.”

She furrowed her brows in confusion as she looked at me.

“Felt my fear?”

I hesitated before nodding.

“Yeah,” I said. “I can sense things. Energy signatures, how your’e feeling, things like that. And when I was walking this way, I felt your fear. It was so strong, at first, I thought it was my own. Which is pretty big, since I normally shield from that kind of stuff.”

She was staring at me in amazement and her eyes alternated between looking at my face and then my hands again. I knew she wasn’t checking out my purple nail polish. I stuffed my hands into my pockets and she gave me a sheepish look before glancing away.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“It’s okay.”

To be honest, I normally didn’t stick around this long or tried to chat with someone I helped. They asked too many questions that made me wary. Or some would cut out as soon as the immediate danger was over. It was rare for someone to willingly stick around me after they could see what I could do.

And I always had to make sure to not give too much away about myself. My sisterlocks were tugged under my black hood and my coat was long and thick, but not enough that it could hide my curves. If she had to describe me, it’d be in vague terms of a woman wearing a coat, jeans and tennis shoes. At least that’s what I hoped.

We kept walking and I kept a slow pace, trying to figure out how long she’d follow. She paused, as if she figured out what I was doing.

“I just wanted to say thank you, for what you did back there,” she said. Her hands were shaking and she pressed them together.

“You’re welcome,” I replied. “You two know each other?”

She shuddered and then nodded.

“Yeah,” she said and gave a look over her shoulder. “He’s a business friend of my fathers. He always creeped me out, but I didn’t think he would...”

She trailed off and picked at the thin material of a glove with one hand.

“Studies say you’re more likely to be attacked by someone you know,” I point out. “You should learn to trust your gut more.”

She blinked at me and then shifted her purse on her shoulder.

“Oh,” she said and wiped at one cheek.

I could tell by the redness of her eyes that she had been crying. That was some good waterproof mascara though. Aside from the scratch and the smeared lipstick she looked okay. But pain and scars weren’t always something you could see. I could feel the pain radiating from her and the shock that hadn’t quite worn off.

 “Do you have a way to get home?” I asked. “Someone you can call?”

She nodded and then turned to look at the parking lot. I followed her gaze and noted for the first time a white sports car was parked not too far from where my beat-up red Toyota was parked.

“My car’s right there,” she said, pointing to the sports car. “He said he was going to walk me to my car. So I’d be safe.”

She let out a derisive laugh and shook her head.

“The only reason we stopped in the alley is because I was too stupid to wait about confronting him. He’d been coming on to me so much lately, and I had threatened to tell my father. I thought to myself, that us being alone would make it easier because he wouldn’t try to deny it or I wouldn’t be threatening his masculinity or some bullshit like that. I never thought he would…”

I wasn’t asking for the story, but it was one she needed to tell, so I stood there and listened.

“Then he was pulling out the gun and dragging me into the alley and I didn’t think that I’d see my dad or my brother again.”

She turned shimmering brown eyes to me and wiped at her nose.

“Then you showed up,” she said and let out a weak laugh.

A few tears spilled, but she didn’t say anything more. Then she wiped at her cheeks and tried to regain her composure.

“Anyway,” she said and cleared her throat.  “Do you need a ride home?”

I raised my brows at that, slightly surprised by the offer. She looked at me expectantly and I knew she meant it. I shook my head.

 “No,” I said. “I’ve got my own way home.”

“Can you fly?”

The question made me blink at her and she gave me a sheepish look.

“Well, I don’t know,” she mumbled. “With all the other stuff you can do, I just figured…”

I huffed a small laugh.

“No,” I said, grinning under my scarf. “I can’t fly. Or I’ve never tried. Pretty sure I can’t though.”

She was giving me another one of those amazed looks and I shifted under her gaze. I felt awkward having someone look at me like that. Only my grandmother and best friend were impressed by what I could do. A stranger just made me feel out of place.

“Well,” I said and nodded to her car. “Off you go.”

“Right,” she said and spared me a small smile before trekking towards her car.

I stood against the lamppost, watching her progress, deciding I’d wait until she left before heading to mine. Better safe than sorry.

“Hey,” she said, turning back to me. “I won’t tell them about you. I mean, if they come asking questions or anything, like he said. I won’t say anything.”

She had to speak louder to be heard over the wind. I inclined my head at her and she cupped her hands around her mouth.

“I’m serious,” she called. “We need more people like you!”

I nodded and waved to let her know I heard. She gave me another smile and then turned back towards her car. I watched her get in and waited until she drove away before I headed for my own.

She couldn’t have seen it, but I smiled the whole time, touched by her words.

________________

I walked up the front steps of my grandmother’s home, pausing when I saw glowing eyes peering at me from the railway. I squinted at the eyes and decided to trust my internal senses instead. I smiled at the familiar signature.

“Hey Chester,” I said and crouched near the railing. “Late night, huh?”

Chester, one of my grandmother’s stray cats, stepped further onto the porch and looked pointedly at his empty food bowl. He was all black except for a few patches of white on his chest and paws. The end of his tail flicked and he turned an expectant gaze to me.

My grandmother had gotten into the habit of feeding strays, some as young as kittens. And as they grew older, she ended up having a few outside cats that came and go as they pleased. I tried telling her that it wasn’t a good idea, since technically they weren’t _really_ ours, but she never turned anyone away. Human or animal.

I also think she enjoyed the company, especially since age kept her at home more often than she’d like.

“Sorry, buddy,” I said and opened the front door. “I don’t think she should be feeding you guys anyway. We’re one step away from becoming the neighborhood cat ladies.”

Chester squinted yellow eyes up at me and meowed. He peered into the house and pawed at the screen door. If he was wandering around this late, given how cold it was getting, he must be desperate. Chicago winter was coming and the oncoming snow and low temperatures saw a lot of my grandma’s favorites disappearing. And Chester was her number one.

“Meow.”

I pursed my lips at him and then shook my head. I pushed open the screen door and he darted inside. I knew my grandmother had a setup for strays in the downstairs bathroom and I sighed as I closed the door behind me.

“You’re welcome,” I mumbled and began tugging off my coat and shoes.

I placed my shoes in the shoe tray in the entry hallway and padded quietly towards the living room. When I peered inside, I saw my grandmother sleeping in her favorite armchair, Jeopardy playing softly on the television. The wooden floorboards creaked under my socked feet as I walked towards her but she didn’t stir.

“Grandma,” I murmured, nudging her gently. “Grandma, you need to get to bed.”

I stroked my hand gently through her thin white hair, feeling the soft curls. If her hair was any indication, I would look forward to keeping my thick head of hair into old age.

My petting caused her to stir and I smiled when she blinked eyes open at me.

“Jenna?” she asked. “That you?”

I shook my head at the question and helped her sit up properly.

“Who else would it be?” I teased and she smacked her lips at me.

“Child, you know how many people visit me?” she mumbled and then yawned. “Why are you coming home so late?”

I sighed and moved to sit on the couch, picking the seat closest to her.

“Someone needed my help,” I said.

She picked up her glasses and then paused to peer at me once she put them on.

“Oh?” she asked. “Everything all right then?”

She believed my powers were given to me for a reason and that I should use those to help others. But I knew she saw things on the news that made her worry for me.

“Yeah,” I assured her. “No one saw my face. I don’t think. I tried to keep it hidden.”

She smiled at me and reached over to pat my hand. A soft meow came from the hallway and she turned, delighted.

“Chester,” I told her with a sigh. “Seriously, first time someone calls me a cat lady, I’m banning felines from this house.”

She ignored me and made a cooing noise at Chester, who peered at her through the entryway from the hallway. He paused briefly before trotting towards her.  

“Hush,” she said to me. “This ain’t your house for one. And two, since when have you had a problem with cats?”

I frowned, eying Chester as he hopped onto the armrest of my grandmother’s chair. She reached up a hand to scratch lightly behind his ears and soft purring filled the room.

“Nina’s coming in tomorrow, right?” she asked, as she continued her petting.

“Uh huh,” I said. “She’ll probably get in while I’m at work.”

Chester, obviously done with the attention, shifted to drop onto my unused armrest. I lifted a hand and he gave it a sniff. He turned his head away, disinterested. I rolled my eyes and dropped my hand.

“It’ll be good to have her back again, even if it’s for a few months. Been quiet with just us two here, don’t you think?”

Nina was my best friend who I had known since childhood. She was coming back from New York to help with a project at a local arts gallery for a few months and would be staying with us.

I hummed and rolled my shoulders to ease out tension.

“Yeah, well. She’s trying to get on my good side and said she’d help out with re-painting the yellow room.”

The yellow room was one of the guest bedrooms upstairs and the walls were painted a vibrant, lemon yellow. The walls needed a fresh coat every few years or so and since my grandfather had passed when I was ten, my grandmother and I had always made a weekend of re-painting the rooms that needed it. Now though, she was getting where her joints ached more and she couldn’t do the work anymore.

“Oh? What you two get into this time?” my grandmother questioned.

I rubbed my hands down my jeans and shook my head. She titled her head at me and I stood up.

“Come on,” I said and reached down to help her out of her seat. “Let’s get you to bed.”

My grandmother studied me with deep, brown eyes and I tried not to squirm under her searching look. As far as I knew, my grandmother was human, but she always had this way of knowing things even when you didn’t tell her. I guess it might just be experience or time that had given her that gift.

“All right,” she said and used my arm to pull herself up. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

I didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. I always told my grandmother everything, even when I told myself I wouldn’t. She had that way about of her, of getting you to open up without even trying.

___________________

_‘I’ll meet you at Lind’s Diner for dinner. Got exciting news for you!’_

“Huh,” I mused to myself, reading Nina’s text.

I was glad to see she had apparently made it in okay, and I knew that her pick of Lind’s Diner was a tradition. It had been our favorite spot in high school and they had the best club sandwiches I ever had.

 I didn’t get to dwell long on what the exciting news Nina had for me, because I felt a sudden wave of irritation and anger. I was working an earlier shift, knowing that Nina would be arriving today and had got stuck at the “Returns and Exchange” Counter. I hated doing customer service. Too many angry or irritated and irrational people, battering their spiking energy at my shields all fucking day. It took all the years of teaching myself to shield from absorbing all that nastiness and throwing it back at everyone in the store.

I eyed the woman who was striding towards me and put on my best ‘customer service’ smile. She was wearing a ‘Bitch’s Club’ T-Shirt, faded jeans and heels, her eyes zeroed in on me with clear determination. Would it be rude for me to point out that there were travel size lotions in the carts near the checkout line? Her elbows were ashy, and moisturizer would help that dry patch on her neck.

_Nope, you’re just feeding off her nasty energy, Jenna. Stay calm._

“How can I help…”

She slammed a plastic bag full of cards onto the counter, cutting off my words.

“I want to return these. The color’s not right.”

“Sure,” I said, ignoring the terseness of her words. “I can help with that.”

I began pulling out the cards which had printed in big, round cursive

_Mallie’s 34 th birthday party. Turn up or go home! _

“Ma’am,” I questioned, sorting through the card stock. “Just to be clear, you want to return, not exchange, this white card stock, which you have already printed your birthday invitations on for a full refund?”

She was tapping her lime-green acrylic nails against the counter, eying me with distaste.

“Yes,” she snapped. “The color ain’t right.”

I never understood the logic of being mean to people who were supposed to help you would make things easier.

“Ma’am,” I said again, carefully. “You used all of the card stock. We normally recommend that you make a sample to see how you like it before you use all of it.”

“Who the fuck has time for that?” she snapped, and her nails clacked against the counter. “The shit didn’t look right on none of them. I want my money back.”

I kept the pleasant smile on my face, my hands clasped in front of me behind the counter.

“Ma’am, per our returns and exchange policy, we can’t refund a product that has been completely used. However, you can exchange it…”

“I don’t want an exchange, I want my fucking money back,” she interrupted me and a woman who had been pushing a cart behind us gave her a startled look. “The shit don’t look right, so give me my money.”

Her anger was building, and I vaguely wondered what must be going in her life that had her screaming at a cashier in the middle of the afternoon in an arts supply store.

“Do you have your receipt?” I asked.

Shit at this point, I just wanted her to get out of my face. Kevin, my manager, was pretty chill and I’d just explain it to him later.

“No,” she said, the irritation in her voice growing. 

Of course she didn’t.

She must have sensed what I was thinking, or maybe I unintentionally gave off my exasperation, because she snapped.

“You know what, bitch…”

Ooh, a personal attack. This would be fun. I just gave her a mild look and could feel her anger boil over.

“You better get my fucking money. Ya’ll up here acting like you fancy as shit with your fucked up paper costing too damn much anyway….” 

I didn’t like doing this, knowing people had a right to what they felt and all that, but she was getting on my nerves.

“I don’t need this shit. What kind of policy don’t let you return ya’ll jank ass shit…”

I had stayed calm, so I could draw on that energy. In an emotional sense, her anger was hot and it lashed out as soon as I opened my mental shield. It didn’t bother me, with just one person, and it was easier to not let her fierce anger swallow my calm. I focused on pushing my own energy towards her, so it could swallow hers and wrap around it. I could feel a bit of her anger bleeding into me, but I persisted, determined to not let it overtake me. 

It only took a few seconds from the outside perspective and I didn’t move. It wasn’t like I waved a fancy wand or anything. I didn’t even have to look at her if I didn’t want to, I just had to be near her. To the people who were watching, it just looked like I was nodding as she spewed insults at me.

There was resistance and I had to wrap my energy more tightly around her, pushing through the stubborn wall of her own emotions.  With anger it’s a bit harder, because some people are just naturally drawn more to their ire and it takes a bit more coaxing to get them to calm down. There’s just a sense of righteousness in anger, something personal about it that makes it harder to let go.

“And you…” she paused and shook her head again. “I don't….”

 There was always a hint of confusion. Have your ever been hit with an unexpected emotion and couldn’t put your finger on where it came from? Yeah, it’s like that.

“Ma’am, if you want, I can exchange the card stock for you,” I said, sensing that energy change. “That way, you’re not really wasting your money and you have a template to go by to see what color you actually like.”

She blinked at me and then slowly, nodded her head. She was still frowning, but the anger had ebbed down.

“Yeah, ok,” she said. “Fine.” 

Kevin, who had been alerted to the situation when she started raising her voice, beamed at me in gratitude as I led her down the aisle.

This was not where I had wanted to be in my life, calming down errant customers, fielding questions about what the difference was between barn red or tomato red paint.

I had gotten a master’s in public administration from Oxford University and now I was stuck doing this shit. But hey, sometimes the job industry didn’t give a fuck what degree you had.

 “I need this,” the woman said and taped the box of card stock.

It was the exact same one she had already purchased. I had the practice of keeping my face pleasantly neutral as I looked at her, meeting her expectant gaze.

“I believe that may be the same,” I told her. “What specific color are you looking for?”

“White,” she said, and I felt that spark of irritation again. “Like this one.”

She pointed to a different box and I felt my brow twitch.

 “My girl said that cloud white was better than eggshell white. Do ya’ll have that?”

I glanced at the boxes on the shelf, making a show of peering at the selections. The only two selections we had she had already pointed out and she _had_ to know that.

“This is all we have,” I told her, and she shook her head and planted a hand on her hip.

“Check the back,” she said and waved a hand. “I don’t like these, and I need white cards.”

Even though I had disrupted and calmed down her anger, there was always a natural part of person that knew when to revert back to what they were immediately feeling. Sometimes they were just the type of person were a certain emotion came naturally to them. I could impact what you felt, but I couldn’t make you keep that feeling, especially if you didn’t want to.

“Sure thing, ma’am,” I said, feeling a frustrated scream try to crawl up my throat. I kept my composure as I turned out the aisle.

I still had no idea what great news Nina had for me, but I only hoped it would make this fucking day better.  


	2. Chapter 2

 

“Girl, you look worn out. Rough day?”

 

I lifted my head from my folded arms to watch Nina slid into the seat across from me. I had gotten off earlier and had come straight to _Lind’s_ after my shift was over. Luckily, the woman with the card stock had been the worst customer, but it still had been a draining day.

 

“Yeah,” I mumbled, watching as she shrugged out of her coat. “Didn’t get much sleep last night and today was…. well, retail.”

 

Nina was wearing a red striped tunic, black leggings and black boots. She had big, gold hoop earrings and her face was tastefully done in makeup. She was a petite thing, with loose curly hair, a result of her mixed heritage. She had color, but she couldn’t pass as black, at least not to black folk. Nina’s older brother, Miles, was full black, so when she was born, rumors ran rampant. And sometimes, the sins of our parents attach, and we have to carry them around with us.

 

But Nina held her head high, learned not to take shit from anyone and was fiercely loyal to those she loved. It was why she was my closest friend since we were fifteen and knew the truth about me.

 

“Long night?” she teased, opening the menu. “You hit up Jaquim again?”

 

I scrunched my face and pulled my locks back into a loose ponytail.

 

“Jacquim?” I repeated and snorted. “Girl, no, I haven’t talked to him in…well, shit, I can’t remember. No, I came across this…”

  
I hesitated and Nina lowered her menu to look at me. She raised her brows at the expression on my face.

 

“Spill,” she commanded. I sighed.

 

I told her about the woman I had saved and how she had been grateful and had vowed she wouldn’t say anything if someone came asking.

 

“See?” Nina gasped excitedly when I was done. “I’m telling you, you are meant more for this retail bullshit.”

I rolled my eyes and smiled at the waitress who approached.

 

“Hey, Haley,” I said as she poured our waters. “The usual for me.”

  
“Sure, Jenna,” she said and didn’t have to bother writing anything down. “Hey, Nina! Long time no see. How’s New York treating you?”

  
Nina grinned at her and let out a small laugh.

 

“It’s good. Cold there too though. But I’ll back in town for a few months.”

 

“Really?” Haley asked. “What for?”

 

“I’m helping one of the heads of the diversity outreach departments setting up a local gallery here. I’m in the running as one of the next head positions and this is kind of trial phase for me.”

 

I inclined my head at that. I hadn’t known that. Was that the exciting news?

 

“Good for you, Nina!” Haley said and took our menus. “Sorry, but I don’t remember your usual.”

 

“Grilled cheese, normally,” Nina said. “But I’m going to go for the chicken and waffle sliders this time.”

 

Haley nodded and left to put in our orders.

 

“Moving up in the world, huh?” I asked when she left. “Congratulations by the way. You could have told me sooner.”

  
Nina shrugged and took a sip of her water. I felt a flicker of nervousness from her and I studied her curiously.

 

“Yeah,” she said and looked at me. “But you could be too, you know. Instead of stuck here working some dead-end job.”

 

I raised a brow at that and propped my chin on my fist.

 

“Nina, you got me that job,” I remarked lightly.

 

Nina had always loved the arts and had used to be an arts teacher here. The school she had worked at bought a lot of supplies from Kevin’s Arts and Krafts Supply Store. Kevin loved the school and the arts program and had taken Nina’s recommendation to hire me. 

 

“Yeah,” she huffed and leaned back in her seat.  “As a filler job to help tide you over for something better. I didn’t expect for you to still be here in six months!”

 

I shrugged and traced the rim of my water glass with one finger. Droplets of condensation rolled slowly down the glass and pooled on the napkin underneath.

 

She wasn’t wrong and there was nothing I had to say in argument.

 

“Look,” Nina sighed. “Take last night for instance. You’ve got other options for work. Non-traditional options.”

 

“We’ve been over this,” I sighed. “I can’t go around saving people twenty-four seven.”

“I’m just saying that a black female superhero would be dope as shit _and_ inspiring.”

I rolled my eyes and glanced out the window. It was cloudy today, but a few licks of sunlight managed to come through. People were shuffling by in light jackets or coats, and there was the distant sounds of cars stalling at intersections. Just ordinary people going about their ordinary lives.

“You’re not the only one, you know,” Nina remarked, and I could feel her watching me. “Mutant or not, there are people out there, with those powers and they’re helping people.”

“It’s not the word that bothers me,” I said, still absently watching people go by. “People are nervous about anyone who’s different. Calling them mutants or not doesn’t matter.”

Differences is what scares people the most. Skin color, language, culture, powers. If it’s different, it’s dangerous. If you’re an outsider, you always have to be careful.

“Ok,” she conceded. “So tell me this. If it bothers you so much, why do you help people? That woman last night, she’s not the first.”

I ask myself that question sometimes. Right before I step in, I try to let myself imagine walking away and ignoring the problem. Not all people are grateful with my help and I’ve got a few scars where things went wrong. When I didn’t quite know what I was doing and got hurt.

 “I don’t know,” I said. “It’s like I just feel them there. And I can feel their fear and pain and sometimes it’s like it’s my own. And once I feel that, I think to myself I can’t just leave them there. How could I? How can you feel another person’s pain and just ignore them?”

I finally turn my gaze to look at her. There’s a sprinkle of freckles along her nose and her eyes are a rich, dark brown that were filled with worry. Nina’s always worried about me.

“Jenna…”

“Here you go, guys,” Hayley said, as she strode up. “Club sandwich for Jenna and the chicken and waffle sliders for Nina. You guys good?”

We turned to Hayley with a smile, accepting our plates, not giving anything away. Years had taught us to be casual in how we reacted when people walked up.

“Thanks, Hayley. I think we’re good,” I said, and she nodded and left.

Nina and I lapsed into a thoughtful silence as we started into our meals, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

“Do you know what the Sokovia Accords are?” I asked after a few moments had passed.

She furrowed her brows at me in confusion and took a bite of slider and chewed.

“The what?”

I quirked my lips, having not really expected her to know.

 “So, a lot of people would agree that the Avengers do good. They saved the world from the alien Invasion in New York, they stopped that other attack in Sokovia. Without them, let’s assume we’d be bowing to our new alien overlords, right?”

She nodded and took another bite. I could feel her curiosity, but she kept quiet.

“Ok. But every time the Avengers show up, there’s damage. Casualties and destroyed buildings, cities in some cases.”

Nina frowned at me, her fingers tapping against her glass.

“But they were saving people,” she said. “I mean yes, it’s horrible that people died, but if they hadn’t done anything….”

“Does it matter when people are dying and the commonality between all those incidents is that there’s this group of people who drop in, save the day, and fly out? It’s not a good look for governments who like control. And it’s not a good look for the Avengers, who may truly be trying to save people, but wherever they go, people end up dying. It doesn’t matter who’s fault it is, they’re the easiest to blame.”

I shrug and take another bite of my club sandwich. Nina is still watching me, waiting for me to get to the point.

“There was a terrorist attack in Nigeria,” I said when I had finished chewing. “The Avengers were there and they were trying to stop it. They didn’t and a lot of people died. For the government, it was the last straw.” 

“Which government?” she questioned, and I shrugged.

“Shit, every government, I guess. They didn’t like that they couldn’t control them. So, the UN decided to establish the Sokovia Accords and it was approved by a whole lot of countries.”

“How do you know all of this?” she asked.

I sat back in my seat and took a big swig of water.

  
“Even though I’m not using my degree, I like following this type of stuff. And when governments get together and make laws and declarations, I try to keep up with that.  And the Accords basically gave governments that power that they wanted. They got to control the Avengers. All those powerful people could only do what a government agency told them to do.”

“Shit,” she said softly. “Why do I see that not working out too well?”

I hummed and took another bite of my sandwich.

“Ok, but that’s the Avengers,” she said, “what does that have to do with you?”

Her view of me was optimistic. Nina wasn’t afraid of me and could only see me as someone who could help people. She had been with me as I gained stronger control of my powers and although I still felt I had a lot to learn, she was always impressed, always urging me to do more. 

“It’s not just the Avengers. It’s for all ‘enhanced individuals’. Let’s say I throw on some costume, come up with a superhero name and get into the game, for real. If it gets out, I would have to register with them, give them everything about me. My DNA, what I can do, everything. They could track me, know who I know, tell me where to go.”

Nina crossed her arms and pressed her lips together. The worry was stronger from her now and I could see the tension in her shoulders. I wasn’t trying to scare her, not really. I just wanted her to understand that even the few cases where I did do something, I was putting not only myself, but everyone I knew at risk.

“What if you don’t sign up? I mean there has to be people who are still using their powers to help, and they didn’t sign up, did they?”

I shrugged.  

“If you get caught or arrested they still have you. They take you away without trial,” I said and leaned back in my seat. “And if they think that my powers are threatening enough, who knows what they’d do to me?”

“Jesus,” she whispered and shook her head.

“Yeah,” I said softly and rubbed my fingers against the table. “I’m just hoping I’m too lowkey to be on anyone’s radar.”

“You still use those warehouses to practice?” she asked and I nodded. “Good. No one goes around there, right?”

“No,” I said. “If I need to let out some steam, I’ve still got a good place to go. Not sure when they’re going to eventually tear them down though.”

She hummed thoughtfully and then inclined her head.

“Hey, so, you said they signed that Accord at the UN, right?” she asked.

“Uh huh.”

“Wasn’t that when his dad died?” 

I frowned at her.

“Who?”

“T’Challa,” she said. “I remembered hearing that his father was killed at an attack in the UN a few years back, right?”

I was trying not to show how much his name startled me. It was useless though. Nina knew how I felt.

“Yeah,” I said, keeping my voice neutral. “Wakanda had a few workers who had died in the Nigerian terrorist attacks, so they were one of the countries that signed.”

She frowned at that and shook her head.

“So knowing  what it meant for people like you, he was okay with his country signing the Accords?”

The question was innocent enough, but I felt the tension in my shoulders and neck.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t exactly speaking to him remember? He didn’t know about my powers when were still talking to each other anyway.”

When I had saw on the news that T’Challa’s father had died, my heart had gone out to him. I knew firsthand how much he cared for his father and his people and knew he must have been suffering at the death of his father.

“I don’t buy it,” Nina said, and I was pulled from my thoughts. “Something’s changed.”

“What?” I asked, completely confused.

She shook her head at me.

“Ok, look. His dad was ready to sign that…Soko…Accords, whatever. Then, his dad dies and T’Challa becomes King. Next thing we know, he’s at the UN revealing how advanced Wakanda is and how we must make strives to build bridges and all that…. What changed?”

I had seen the speech too, had been struck by the sincerity of T’Challa’s words. I had also seen Nakia, looking beautiful in a green dress standing right behind him. My heart had ached for many reasons, but I had been surprised to find how much I had missed him _and_ her. They had been close friends to me. That had been a while ago though.  

“I’m just saying, it was probably his dad’s idea to sign it,” Nina continued. “And if that’s the case, maybe T’Challa can have his mind changed on it.”

I had been half listening to her, but those words caught my attention. I blinked and refocused on Nina, who was rummaging through her purse. Her nervousness was back and she was both anxious and excited.

“Nina, what the hell are you talking about? This is all hypothetical, we have no way of knowing what T’Challa is thinking. And even if we did, it’s not like we’re…”

I watched her fish a piece of paper out of her purse and then slap it onto the table. I glanced at the paper and back at her.

“What’s this?”

“This is as good a time as any to tell you,” she said. “Now, let me remind you, that we are in a public place, so try to control any violent inclinations you might have.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, my instincts ringing. All this talk of T’Challa and Wakanda and…

I took the paper and then, very slowly, unfolded it.

_“Dear Miss Jenna Dawson,_

_After reviewing your application for the Wakandan Summer Initiative Program, I am pleased to inform that you have been selected as a candidate for the next round. We would like to invite you for an in-person interview which will be held…”_

Lights flickered around the diner and a few people murmured in surprise. Nina furrowed her brows at me and I took a deep breath. The flickering stopped and I let out my breath slowly and carefully folder the paper.

“Well, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be,” Nina mused.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in through my nose.

“I specifically told you that I didn’t want to do this,” I said carefully. “I told you there wasn’t a good enough reason for me to go and I have to take care of grandma and…”

“This is a once in a life time opportunity to go the most secluded and advanced nation in the country for a summer,” she said, cutting me off. “You get to study at the Wakandan University, learn about their culture, their people. And you’re going to leave being one of the few people who got a glimpse into something that the rest of the world is dying to get the chance at seeing. The only employment problem you’re going to have is figuring out which job you want to take. Mrs. Genine is going to be just fine and if she knew what you’re turning down, she’d be furious.”

I glared at her, not sure if I was angrier at her or myself. Nina leaned forward and held my gaze.

“Jenna, if this is about what you had with T’Challa…girl, you have to let it go.”  

I leaned away and crossed my arms over my chest. I wasn’t surprised that’s what she thought. I wasn’t sure if she was wrong though.

Nina had called me a few months ago, excitement in her voice telling me that as part of Wakanda’s agenda to provide more aid to other countries, they were accepting applicants for a Summer Program Initiative. It would be the first time that outsiders would be invited into Wakanda and attend classes at Wakanda University. The goal was to provide education as a means of resource. From some of the preliminary course descriptions and schedules that had been released as preview, Wakanda’s education was far ahead that many countries.

I had turned it down. I had understood her enthusiasm, but I had felt that familiar ache in my chest. T’Challa was King and there would be no way I wouldn’t see him if I tried to apply. Who knew if he’d let me in anyway?

At least that’s what I had thought.

“It’s not about him,” I snapped. She raised a brow. “It’s not!”

“No? Then prove it. Get out of this slump. Start trying again. When you came back from Oxford, I thought you were going to change the world, remember? I thought you were going to be an advocate, a game changer. And now you’re stuck. And the fucked up thing is, it’s your own fault.”

This was the argument that had kept us silent for the last few weeks. I thought I had gotten in the final word, but I should have known better. It was aggravating, but Nina always got her way.

“Why do you care so much?” I demanded. “You’re out here living your best life. Why do you care so much about mine?”

Nina stared at me and I felt a flicker of her hurt before she looked out the window. Her arms were still crossed, but her shoulders slumped slightly.

“I thought we said we’d always have each other’s back,” she said tightly. “And that we wouldn’t leave each other behind.”

I stared at her and felt the stirrings of remorse.

“Nina…”

“Jenna, I know I can come off as pushy,” she said, interrupting me. “I know I’m not…Look, it’s hard enough trying to follow your dreams on your own. And I see you and all you can do…and it’s like you’re. I don’t know. Like you gave up.”

She looked at me, and there was a sheen to her eyes, but she kept her face straight.

“I know I don’t really know what it’s like, being like you, but…I guess, I thought that the least I could do is try to help find whatever it is you’re looking for. Maybe this will lead to something, maybe it won’t. But it’ll get you out of here and see something besides all the bullshit we have to put up with here.” 

For the second time that day, I didn’t have anything to say in response.

______________________________

_BOOM!_

 

The slab of concrete in front of me exploded into pieces and I automatically threw a shield up to block the flying debris.

 

The abandoned warehouses, with their walls lined with graffiti, the floors littered with trash and empty beer bottles, were remnants of an older industrial part of town. Even the homeless had been forced to move on, having given up after the police had stopped by too many times to push people along. The warehouses in this abandoned area were far enough away that it wasn’t likely anyone would hear the small explosions that I set off.

 

_BOOM!_

 

There’s a type of peace that you can only get when your mind has stilled. It’s really hard to do, because we’ve been trained to always thinks, always worry, always stress about the past or the future.

 

_CRACK!_

But when my mind was empty of thought and all I can feel is the power and energy licking up my veins, I found it peaceful. I was free in those few moments, to just tap into the energy that resided deep within me.

 

I pulled that energy from my center, let it stroke along my arms and focused it into a warm ball between my hands. And then I hurled it forward, watching as it hit one of the large, round cannisters that was a few feet away. It exploded with heat and sparks and all I could feel was that pounding rush inside me.

  
Nina had taken a cab back to my grandmother’s place, knowing I needed time alone.  She had once told me, that when I get like this, the irises of my eyes glowed a golden yellow. I had once fought a guy who had stumbled back from me in fear when he saw my eyes like that and I knew what she said was true. I still hadn’t seen it to myself, as I was always trying to calm down and get my powers under control.

 

But now, I wanted to loosen that control, wanted to let go of all the hang-ups and thoughts and frustrations that had made up my life in the last few months.

No, not months, if I were honest. Years.

 

I held my control over the next ball of energy so that when it bounced against a metal beam, it didn’t go off. When the ball slammed into another concrete slab, I released my hold and it exploded. I had discovered this ability by accident, startled that I basically had a mental detonator switch. Luckily, I hadn’t had a reason to use it yet.

_What am I doing with my life?_

 

Panting, I felt the  sweat trickle down the back of my neck. I had left my coat in the car, my natural energy keeping me warm in the cold. At least I had tomorrow off and could wash my work clothes when I got home. That’s all I ever did. Work and go home.

 

_This wasn’t what I wanted for my life. I wanted to do more than just this._

 

With a yell, I threw out another blast, not really aiming anymore. It was bigger than the first and I had to throw my shield up again before I was hit with the smoldering remains. I had gotten better with my powers, much better, but there always felt like there was something I wasn’t tapping into.

 

 _I could be doing so much more_.

 

I let my eyes drift upwards, looking past the ruined ceiling of metal beams. The clouds had cleared to a dark, night sky, but I couldn’t see any stars. I held my hands loose at my sides, my energy still tickling along my skin. I kept my eyes upwards as the memories drifted back to me.

 

_That crooked smile that he gave when he thought I was being amusing._

_The way his eyes would light up when he was passionate about something or spoke of his home._

_The even tone of his voice when we argued. How I knew I was getting to him whenever his voice got calmer._

_How he could be stoic and closed off one minute, but one teasing joke could have him grinning and laughing with me._

 

My fingertips were still glowing, and I clenched and unclenched my fists. My heart rate had slowed, and I was in this numb calm space, my mind taking me back. The air was cooler, and I welcomed the breeze against my heated skin.

 

Nina had applied for the program for me because she thought she was helping. She knew me well enough to answer the preliminary questions and had used one of the essays I had submitted for my masters program. She didn’t do it often, but if she truly felt she was helping, she went out of her way to do it. It was an endearing trait, but normally it wasn’t directed onto me.

 

But she didn’t understand, not really. I wasn’t afraid of seeing T’Challa again. I was afraid that by seeing him again, I would realize that I was really stuck. That my heart truly hadn’t mended from something that I couldn’t let myself feel.

 

_What if I’m still in love with him?_

I truly didn’t have the answer to that question.

 

_________________________

 

FLASHBACK – OXFORD UNIVERSITY. EIGHT YEARS AGO.

 

“Malo igama lam ngu-“ I tried, the words still feeling stuck as they came out.

 

T’Challa titled his head away slightly, but I noticed the way his lips twitched.

 

“Hey,” I huff, nudging him in the stomach. “You promised you wouldn’t laugh!”

 

He struggled to hold it in, but finally a soft laugh escaped. I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms as I glared at him.

 

“I am sorry,” he said, the mirth still in his voice. “Truly, you’re getting better. It’s just…your pronunciation…” 

 

I pursed my lips and stomped forward, but I wasn’t really mad. It had taken time, but T’Challa’s willingness to tease me meant more than I think he knew. It had taken time, but he was relaxing around me, enjoying himself more. He couldn’t be a stiff Prince all the time, I had told him.

 

He caught up to me with his longer stride and grinned at me. I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that formed.

 

“Was I really that bad?” I questioned, tilting my head at him.

 

“Not bad,” he said, and bumped me lightly. “You’ve gotten better since you started with Nakia.”

 

“Why did she have to go back so soon?” I sighed. “She was only here for a year!”

 

T’Challa just smiled, as he was used to my laments, and said nothing. Nakia was like that too sometimes, smiling instead of answering my questions. Though T’Challa had perfected the art of not speaking when he didn’t want to. I thought I was stubborn and secretive, but I didn’t have anything on those two.

 

I still hadn’t figured out if they were together or not. They were both evasive on that subject too.  T’Challa was handsome and the smartest person I had ever met. There was a kindness to him, coupled with a firm confidence and stoic quietness. Nakia was beautiful and smart and had a sharpness to her that I admired. I felt extremely lucky to call him and Nakia my friends. And all because I had happened to sit next to them during my psychology class. We had started as classmates, to study partners and then friends.

 

There had been a shift when Nakia had returned to her country a few months ago. Even with email and texts, I missed her. It was bad enough that I was homesick for my grandmother and Nina back in the States. Then I had to go and make a friend who stepped into my life and left as quickly as she came.

 

I glanced at T’Challa, a small smile on my face. Had it not been for him, I’d probably be a lot lonelier. We spent most of our free time together and it became a common thing for him to walk me to my rooms on campus after a night of studying. I liked to think that I was giving him as much comfort from being away from home as he was for me.

 

T’Challa noticed me watching him and looked at me with curious brown eyes.

 

“What?” he questioned.

 

I felt my face warm and looked away, shaking my head.

 

“Nothing,” I said, shivering as a cold wind ripped pass. “God, I hate the cold. London isn’t as bad as Chicago, but I’m getting sick of snow.”

 

Another wind had me stuffing my hands under my armpits and hunching my shoulders. T’Challa stopped and I paused, turning to look at him. He took his black scarf from his neck and looped it around mine, tugging me close so he could properly adjust it. I peered up at him wondering how many of these moments would continue to confuse me.

 

“Thanks,” I said softly and he tapped my nose. “Though you probably need this more than me. I told you I’m used to the cold, but I bet you miss that African sun, huh?”

 

T’Challa shrugged and readjusted his coat. It was long and black and made of wool that was extremely warm. I had tried stealing it on the few times he let me borrow it, but he claimed it was just an excuse to get him to my place. He wasn’t necessarily wrong about that.

 

“Wakanda does have snow in some areas,” he said, and we continued walking. “Mostly in the mountains.”

 

“Hmm,” I mused. “Do you have like a royal winter home there?”

 

I had learned his royal status by accident. As part of my scholarship program at Oxford, I worked as part of the rotating wait staff at a few of the Event Centers on campus. At the end of the first year, T’Challa had been present at an awards ceremony that I had been working. I remember not being that surprised seeing him there, knowing that his intellect would lead to him to recognition. I _had_ been surprised to read his name tag.

_‘T’Challa Udaku_. _Sovereign Prince of Wakanda.’_

 

I had nearly spilled water in one of the patron’s lap when I read the name card. I met T’Challa’s gaze as I kept serving, noting the tension in his shoulders. He had seen my reaction and I had been startled to sense that he was nervous.

 

In the time I had come to know T’Challa, he had never been nervous. Wary maybe.  But not nervous. And to know that it was because he wasn’t sure how I reacted, it made it easier.

 

He found me during my break, watching me carefully. I had merely quirked a brow and told him I was not calling him ‘Your Highness’ and he definitely had to pay me back for the pizza last week, because I knew for sure now he had money. My reaction had surprised him and then filled him with relief. It had been a curious response and made me realize that T’Challa might have actually been worried about what I had thought. And it endeared him to me even more.

 

After that hurdle, we had gotten closer. He was still T’Challa to me, even with his royal status. Handsome, intelligent and dorky T’Challa. Though there was always something under the surface that I didn’t quite reach.

 

Like now. T’Challa answered my question with one of his secretive smiles and tucked my arm into his own.

 

“You’re doing it again, T,” I whined, watching as he slid his other hand into his pocket.

 

“And what am I doing?” he asked, grinning at me.

 

“Trying to say something without saying anything at all.”

 

He cocked his head at me but didn’t answer. I punched his arm lightly.

 

“See? If you’re not going to say anything, stop giving me those knowing looks. It’s like you’re giving me clues to something I can’t figure out.”

 

T’Challa laughed, a rich sound that I savored. Nakia told me once that it seemed easy for me to get him to laugh. It was well known that to get a real laugh from the stoic Prince was no easy feat. She had told me this with no hint of jealousy and a genuine smile.

 

They were the most confusing people I had ever met.

 

“Maybe you’re just reading too much into things,” he said, shaking his head at me.

 

“Nope,” I said lightly. “Trust me, I’ve got a talent for this.”

 

He gave me a long look that had me wondering if I should have said my words differently.

 

I had never used my powers in front of him, at least not in a way he could see visually. A few mood adjustments to people around us here or there, especially around finals time. Too much stress packed into an exam room gave me a migraine. Pushing out a little calm energy felt like a service at such a time.

  
But there were times where T’Challa give me a look, long enough that I was beginning to wonder if he noticed something. Or maybe he thought he did, but he wasn’t sure what. And T’Challa was always observing it seemed. Watching quietly while the wheels in his mind turned.

 

“We’re still doing movie night?” I asked, trying to distract him. “You’re done with all your labs this week, right?

 

“Yes,” he said, giving me one of his half smiles. “And maybe we can work on your pronunciation. You may actually learn Xhosa before the year is out.”

 

He pronounced ‘Xhosa’ properly, with the clicking sound that I struggled to imitate.

 

“Say it again? Xhosa?” I prompted.

 

His full lips curved into a fuller smile and he repeated the word for me properly. I tried it again and he shook his head and repeated it. We went back forth as he corrected me, that grin still in place the whole time. I wasn’t put off by his amusement at my attempts, especially if it meant I got to see that smile.

 

I had just begun to think I got it when a wave of heart-rending despair hit me. It came so suddenly, that I staggered into T’Challa, an audible gasp escaping me.

 

“Jenna?” he asked, steadying me. “What’s wrong?”

 

I wasn’t that good at shielding and emotions that were strong enough were able to leak through at the most inopportune times. I let out a shaky breath and pulled my arm from him. I stepped away, shaking my head, trying to shake the overwhelming emotion from me. My energy sparked inside my stomach, but I kept it curled inside.

 

“Nothing,” I said, struggling to get ahold of myself. “I just…”

 

I glanced around, trying to find the source of that despair. I couldn’t see anyone, only the shadowy arches of pathways that led from one building to another on campus.

 

“Jenna, why are you crying?” T’Challa asked and wiped a gloved hand gently along my cheek.

 

I blinked in surprise when I saw that his glove was wet. I hadn’t realized I was crying.  Whoever I was feeling was going through something intense. I let out another breath and sought out again, seeking energy.

 

T’Challa’s signature was warm and steady next to me. It was the most vibrant energy signature I had ever came across. Nakia’s energy signature was similar and I had no way of asking them why. I could sense T’Challa’s worry and concern, but his energy was still steady enough for me draw on. It was a calming force that I used to push out the source of despair and helped bring me back to myself.

 

“Jenna.”

 

I glanced up, seeing T’Challa watch me closely. I only drew on a small amount, but it shouldn’t have been enough for him to notice. But he was staring at me, his brows furrowed. I wrapped myself in my mental shields, cutting off the connection and blocking out my senses from picking up anymore energy signatures or emotions.

 

“I’m fine,” I said and wiped at my face. “Sorry, that was weird, huh? Don’t know what came over me.”

 

He just looked at me, brown eyes steadily watching.

 

“You’re fine now?” he asked.

 

“Uh huh,” I said and nodded. “Yeah, I just…”

 

The emotion rippled across my senses again but didn't come through. But I knew where it was coming from this time.

 

“I just…need to check on something. Over there.”  

 

I pointed in a vague direction and he glanced at the spot and back at me. His brows were still furrowed, and he frowned slightly. When he took a step to follow me, I shook my head quickly.

 

“Ah, no, stay here. Or, better yet, I’ll just catch up with you tomorrow.”

 

 “I was hoping to stay the night at your place,” he said. “Seeing as you wanted to have breakfast at the café tomorrow?”

 

“Brunch,” I said absently, glancing towards the source again. “You know I don’t do mornings.”

 

“Of course,” he said dryly. “Jenna, what are you up to?”

 

I looked to him again, raising my brows. It was so hard to lie to T’Challa. He was too damn perceptive.

 

“Nothing. I just need to take care of something and I’ll be right back.”

 

I began walking away as I said the words but kept my eyes on him. He held my gaze, his face smoothing slightly as he looked at me.

 

I didn’t have to peek into his emotions to know that he was annoyed with me. His face always went blank like that when he was annoyed. He slipped his hands into his pockets, keeping his gaze on me, letting me see in his eyes that he didn’t like being left out. 

 

It wasn’t the first time I displayed what he’d likely call ‘odd behavior’. Things came to me randomly and I always had to check them out. It had only happened a handful of times, but I didn’t want him to come with me, didn’t want to risk him discovering my secret. I wasn't sure how he’d react and I wasn’t sure I was ready to tell him.

As I walked away, I could feel those brown eyes on me the whole time, seeking something that I wasn’t willing to say.

 

Maybe it wasn’t comfort that kept him around. T’Challa had a secret of his own, I was sure of it. And maybe it was just as plausible that I was just a mystery that T’Challa hadn’t yet figured out.

 

I wasn’t sure if I was ready for him to.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

FLASHBACK – OXFORD UNIVERSITY. EIGHT YEARS AGO. SAME NIGHT.

I ended up going under a few archways, stepping into the shadows of the path and out of T’Challa’s sight. His willingness to leave me alone was surprising to me, but I didn’t have to the time to figure out if it was a bigger part of some strategy he had. I did know that if I took too long he’d come looking. Allowing me my moments of strangeness was one thing, but if he thought something was wrong, he’d come after to help. It was something that we had in common.

 

And what currently had me peering around corners, trying to pinpoint the energy I had found earlier. The person was alone, but I still wasn’t good at following yet, especially shielded as I was.  

 

I had just stepped under another archway at the beginning of a tunnel, when a figure rushed from the shadows towards me. I couldn’t help it and a scream escaped me when I blasted the figure away from me by putting up my shield. The figure slammed against the brick wall of the tunnel with a groan. Something clinked and rolled towards me, and I glanced down to see a beer bottle, the liquid splashing onto the cobblestone path.  

 

I stepped to the side and the lamppost behind me washed the figure in a dim yellow light. It was a man, wearing a black puffer jacket and jeans. A knitted cap barely covered his thin, orange hair and he wiped a hand across his mouth. He glared up at me with green eyes.

 

“What was that for?” he demanded. “How the bloody hell did you do that anyway?”

 

The words were slurred and it took me a second to piece together what he was saying with his strong, British accent. 

 

“You scared me,” I offered lamely and eyed him. “I didn’t do anything, you just ran into the wall.”

 

He squinted up at me, his thin lips pressing together.

 

“I’m drunk, love, but not that drunk. You did something just now.”

 

I just looked at him and he snorted and shook his head.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered and began to struggle to his feet. “Interrupting important work, you know. Just got up my nerve till you came stumbling along.”

 

He was taller than I expected and I took a step back as he steadied himself. He titled his head as he studied me.

 

“You one of them African immigrants then?” he asked, his eyes going to the coils of my afro.

 

“American,” I replied simply. It seemed like it was a struggle for him to breath and he leaned heavily on his side against the wall.

 

“Eh,” he mused. “Never met a black American. At least not a woman. You’re a pretty one, wasn't expecting that.”

 

I just looked at him and he grinned at me. He was missing a few teeth.

 

“Work here?” he asked, tilting his head at me.

 

“Student,” I said.

 

I didn’t know why I was humoring him. Maybe because aside from the liquor pouring off him, there was a rolling sense of despair too. This man was in pain and it seemed alcohol wasn’t doing anything to stave it off.

 

“Education,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Books won’t do you any good. Not for your lot.”

 

I said nothing and watched as he struggled to stay in his upright position. Seeming to give up, he sank down again, leaning back against the brick wall of the tunnel. It put him a bit in the shadows, but not enough.

 

“Jenna!”

 

Shit.

 

T’Challa was coming towards us, his eyes trained on the man. The man didn’t seem bothered by T’Challa’s approach and watched him as he came to stand next to me.

 

“I heard you scream,” T’Challa said. “Are you all right?”

 

“You’re definitely an African,” the man said, studying T’Challa. “Have to be with that accent.”

 

T’Challa gave him a look and the man huffed.

 

“You people always so edgy?” The man demanded.

 

“Depends on who you mean by ‘you people’,” I muttered and the man looked at me. “What’s your name?”   


“Isaac,” the man said and then waved at T’Challa. “Wouldn’t happen to have any beer in that coat of yours?”

 

“No,” T’Challa said, eyeing him.

 

“Didn’t think so,” Isaac muttered and glanced at me. “What about you, love?”

 

I lifted my small clutch and he sighed.

 

“Damn,” he muttered.

 

“This is what you needed to take care of?” T’Challa asked, turning his gaze to me.

 

I hesitated, not sure what to say. Nothing I could come up with would be a good enough explanation. None that T’Challa wouldn’t see past anyway.

 

How could I explain the overwhelming despair that was coming off of this man? For all appearances, he simply looked drunk, slumped over his knees as he was.

 

“She your woman, mate?” Isaac asked, watching T’Challa. “She’s a pretty one.”

 

T’Challa gave him an unfriendly look and the man chuckled.

 

“Meant no offense,” he said and raised his hands.

 

It was only then that I noticed the pocket knife held in one of his hands. T’Challa shifted in front of me, forcing me to take a step back. 

 

“Let’s go, Jenna,” T’Challa said, and reached for my hand.

 

“Easy, it’s not for you,” Isaac muttered, waving the knife.

 

“Who’s it for?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

 

Isaac just turned his head and spat into the tunnel.

 

It was heart rending what I had felt. It had been so overwhelming it had brought me to tears. But I hadn’t felt any hate. Just despair. I took a step forward, but T’Challa’s hand on my wrist kept me from going any further.

 

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

 

“Calling his bluff,” I said and heard Isaac snort. “I got this.”

 

T’Challa gave me an incredulous look and shook his head.

 

“He’s drunk and armed, Jenna,” he said, but didn’t try to pull me back. “He’s dangerous.”

 

“If he chooses to be, yes,” I said and met T’Challa’s gaze. “You’re literally a step away if he tries something. Just trust me, ok?”

 

T’Challa gazed at me for a second than turned his eyes to Isaac.

 

He gave me one of those looks, the look that had me questioning how much he really understood about me. Then with a shake of his head, he let me go.

 

Isaac had slumped back to the ground and I moved to crouch in front of him. He smelled like liquor and dried sweat and leaned his head tiredly against the wall behind him. He scratched at his cap with one hand and sniffed as he looked at me.

 

“You sure he ain’t your boyfriend, then?” he asked.

 

_I wish._

“No.”

 

Isaac eyed me for a second and then gave me a wide grin.

 

“You want him to be?”

 

I narrowed my eyes at him and he chuckled.

 

 His eyes kept moving around my face and when he reached a hand forward, I leaned back. He huffed out a breath and his head lolled forward slightly.

 

“Still don’t get how you pulled that trick earlier,” he mumbled. “Didn’t even see you move before you tossed me back.”

 

He hadn’t spoken the words loudly, but T’Challa was right behind me and I knew he was listening closely.

 

“What are you doing here, Isaac?” I asked, wanting his thoughts on something else.

 

“Can’t a man die in peace?”  Isaac groaned. “Can’t I even have that?”

 

His words confirmed my suspicions and I searched his face, trying to see past the shadowed eyes and the deep scowl.

 

“Why?”

 

The question had us both turning to T’Challa, who had taken a step forward. When Isaac just stared at him, T’Challa pressed on.

 

“What has brought you to this? Why would you wish to end your own life?”

 

 “Does there need to be a why?” Isaac demanded. “Life can’t be enough of a reason?”

 

“A man can die a thousand times and never find peace, if he is truly not seeking it.”

 

Both men glanced at me and I shrugged.

 

“Read it in a book somewhere,” I said. Isaac shook his head at me, smirking slightly.

 

“Why a knife?” I asked, glancing at his hand. “A gun would have been quicker.”

 

T’Challa shifted behind me, but I didn’t look at him. Isaac just wiped a thumb across his nose and sniffed. His pain was still there, riding against my shield, dampening my own emotions. I wasn’t sure anymore if he was bluffing. I wasn’t sure if I left him, if he’d follow through what he had stumbled out into the night to do.

 

I didn’t know this man, or why he was in so much pain. All I did know was that the pain was real and he felt that he couldn’t escape it.

 

What would my grandmother do?

 

_She would help him._

But I didn’t know how. Shifting someone’s mood was one thing, but what was coming off Isaac was something deeper than just a bad mood. It was like a wound in his psyche that wouldn’t heal. It was raw and open and fresh. Like the trauma had just happened to him.

 

I realized now that what I had felt from other people had been the scars, not the fresh wound. And if it was a wound, then it could be healed, right?

 

I reached for Isaac’s hand and he let me take it, eying me warily. I had to talk while I did this and hoped that the words would distract from what I was going to try and do. Neither he or T’Challa would see anything, at least I hoped so. I had never done this before.

 

“My grandmother told me about this apple grove that she loved when she was a little girl,” I said and slipped my shields open slightly.

 

Isaac’s pain came rolling in and I had to take a shaky breath to steady myself. There was confusion in Isaac, no doubt due to my random story. But he didn’t pull away and I rolled with the curiosity to steady myself. It was better than all the other emotions that came pouring in.

 

“The apple grove was the first plot of land that her family had owned and they had taken care of it for generations. It had started as one apple tree that her great grandmother had grown and as the family grew, so did the number of trees.”

 

I pushed at his despair, pushed at it until he wasn’t drowning in it. Isaac’s hand jerked in my grip but didn’t let go. The emptiness in him almost threatened to drag me in with it and I focused on the words of my story to fight against it.

 

“And they thrived off those trees. Her grandmother and mother taught her how to make apple pies, fresh apple juice, apple cider, apple butter, you name it. If you could make it with apples, they’d figure out how.”

 

I could feel T’Challa behind me, my shields open enough that his warmth came through. But I didn’t reach for him, too afraid that I could pass Isaac’s pain off to him. I couldn’t risk that, no matter how much comfort I wanted. Instead, I focused on pulling on my own energy, drawing it from my center and pushing it into that emptiness inside of Isaac.

 

“Then one day, there was a huge thunderstorm and one of the apple trees caught fire. The fire spread and burned every apple tree on the grove, not missing one. The next morning, after her father had gone through the damage, they realized that the fire hadn’t been an accident. My great grandfather relied on those apples to care for his family and in one night, they were all gone and burned to ash.”

 

The words came out strained and I could feel a wave of nausea. Isaac was staring at me, green eyes struggling to focus. I kept his hand clasped in my own, covering it with my other. I had moved to my knees, my muscles protesting in being in one position for so long. And I kept pushing, kept trying to fill in that hole inside him.

 

“My grandmother said that her father didn’t speak for the whole day. Then the next day, he simply came in, took her and her brothers out to the field and showed them how to plant a new garden. See, her father had taken all the preserves and pies and jams and everything they had already made with the apples and sold them. With the money he got, he purchased seeds so they could start again. This time, he said, they wouldn’t just have an apple grove. They’d plant and sow whatever grew and nurture their land. Even though the fire had burned away what they had, the land was still fertile enough to grow again. They ended up making more money selling more than just apples.”

 

I had to take a deep breath and refocus before I kept going.

 

“If you spend your time clinging to the pain of the past, you’ll never know the joy of starting again. Sometimes things burn us down, but only we choose whether we’ll grow again.”

 

I don’t know if I actually spoke the words out loud. I couldn’t fill the hole all the way and one final push was too much. Isaac groaned and then he turned his head away and threw up.

 

I dropped his hand and tried to rise to my feet, but a wave of dizziness overwhelmed me. I couldn’t steady myself and felt strong arms grab me before I fell into darkness.

 

_______________

 

“What about her then? Does she need to go to the hospital too?”

 

The words stirred me, a panic rising as I dragged myself into consciousness. Someone was holding me in their arms, and I slid my eyes open to look up.

 

T’Challa sat on his knees as he held me, brown eyes lightening when he met my gaze. A paramedic was peering down at us, her brows furrowed as she studied me.

 

“I’m fine,” I mumbled and tried to push myself up. A wave of nausea hit me and I slumped back down, and took in a deep breath.

 

“Let them look at you, Jenna,” T’Challa said, watching me. “You fainted. They should at least check.”

 

There was an unspoken question in his voice and I pressed my forehead against T’Challa’s chest and shook my head.

 

“No, I’m fine,” I whispered, trying not to sound as weak as I felt. “Seeing people throw up makes me sick.”

 

“Jenna,” he said, tilting my face up. “You’re not well.”

 

The paramedic squatted next to us and raised a small light to my eyes. I squinted against it and struggled not to turn my gaze away. She lowered it and looked at me and shook her head.

 

“Pupils are heavily dilated,” she said and shook her head again. “Did you hurt your head or anything?”

 

“No,” I said and felt relief when she pocketed her light.

 

“It’d be better to take a look at you anyway,” the paramedic said, and rose. “You’ll be out before the morning.”

 

“Who called the ambulance?” I demanded, watching her walk away.

 

“Who else?” T’Challa retorted, frowning at me. “Both of you became sick. What else was I going to do?”

 

I winced at the accusation in his tone and turned my face into his chest again. He was just trying to help, even though he didn’t understand what was going on.

 

“T’Challa, I don’t do hospitals,” I said softly. “She’s going to make me go unless you say something.”

 

He didn’t answer and I sighed.

 

Since my powers had matured, I had been healthy enough and hadn’t done physical exams. In fact, I took great care to avoid them. I was too afraid that a simple blood test or check up would end up with doctor’s asking more questions than I wanted to answer.

 

“Please,” I begged quietly and tightened my grip in T’Challa’s coat. “No hospitals.”

 

He stared down at me and I knew I was pushing my limit. T’Challa’s observations were only telling him so much. He was going to start asking questions soon.

 

He pushed out a frustrated breath and then looked at the paramedic. She inclined her head at him.

 

“She’s fine,” he said to her. “I’ll make sure she gets home.”

 

She frowned, hesitating. We both knew she wasn’t buying it.

 

“She’s been studying lately,” he continued on. “She hadn’t been eating or sleeping well lately and I was helping her home when she fainted.”

 

The paramedic spared me a look and I nodded. It was a weak attempt, but I was grateful he was at least trying. She gave us both an unconvincing look but shook her head.

 

“All right then,” she said with a sigh. “I can’t force you to go.”

 

She turned back to her partner who was still checking in with Isaac.

 

“What about you?” she asked him. “Still want to get checked in?”

 

Isaac was watching us and his gaze met mine. I tried to keep my body from going tense as he looked at me closely.

 

There was no way, drunk or not, that he didn’t know that he had felt something from me. But after another pause, he looked away and gave a grimace.

 

“Might as well,” he muttered. “Since you’re all here and everything.”

 

His energy was lighter now. The pain was still there, but it wasn’t a drowning well anymore. It rippled across the surface, but had nowhere to delve into. The hole in him had gotten smaller.

 

_Did it work then? Did I actually help heal it?_

 

I rubbed my hand down the lapel of T’Challa’s jacket and lifted my gaze to meet his.

 

“Thank you,” I said.

 

T’Challa nodded and began helping me to my feet. I leant against his solid body to steady myself and he rubbed my back gently. I kept my face pressed into his coat, inhaling his scent deeply, a mixture of his cologne and something else I couldn’t quite place. It steadied me and eased the nausea.

 

T’Challa watched me for a moment before shaking his head and muttering something in Xhosa.

 

“What does that mean?” I asked, not recognizing any of the words.

 

They were helping Isaac into the van, who had opted for not being strapped in. Isaac gave me one last lingering look and then he gave me a small smile. I smiled back.

 

When I shifted my gaze to T’Challa, he was looking at me closely. Finally, he lifted his gaze to watch the van leave. It was another moment before he finally answered my question.

 

“It means one who is not willing to share their load cannot expect it of another.”

 

I frowned at him and he inclined his head at me.

 

“Something happened tonight, though I am not quite sure what it was. I do know that you will not tell me,” he explained. “But I will leave you to your secrets, Jenna. As much as I wish did not have to.”

 

I blinked at him, trying to process his words.

 

“You just told me something without really telling me, didn’t you?” I asked finally.

 

“Hmm,” he said and rubbed a hand along the back of my neck.

 

We stood there for a moment longer and I wondered if I had made him angry. I wondered if I should even bother to ask, since I wasn’t willing to give him the answers he wanted.

 

“Did you still want to come over tonight?” I asked instead.

 

He nodded, fingers still stroking the back of my neck. It felt good and I leaned into the touch.

 

“If you want me to.”

 

I definitely did. I felt weak and tired and his presence would be extremely welcomed.

 

“Yeah,” I said, smiling. “But can we do lunch instead of brunch? I definitely want to sleep in now.”

 

T’Challa shook his head and chuckled. He tucked my arm into his own and lead me back to our original path. He wasn’t angry then. At least not enough that he was willing to show me.

 

We never spoke of that night again, but the question never left T’Challa’s eyes when he looked at me.

 

_________________________

 

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS. PRESENT DAY.

 

“Jenna, what happened to you?”

 

I hesitated at the question, taking in my grandmother’s concerned eyes as they swept over me. I had been passing by the living room when I heard her question.

“I’m fine,” I said and waved a hand when I noticed her moving to get up. “I was just at the warehouse.”

My grandmother resettled into her recliner chair but frowned at me.

“You need to be careful, honey. You’ve got dirt on your face and it looks like you’ll need to stitch up that hole in your sleeve.”

There may have a been a few times I hadn’t thrown up my shield and had just let the force of the blast overtake me. It was careless, but I had been letting out a lot of pent up emotions.

I let my eyes drift to meet Nina’s and she looked back at me. Chester was propped in her lap and purred as she stroked behind an ear.

 _Traitor_.

“Still mad?” Nina asked, smirking slightly at the look I shot the cat.

I glanced at my grandmother and she nodded at me. Nina had apparently filled her in.

I sighed. 

I had thought about it on the drive home. Had thought about everything. Had thought about the past and where I was now. Where I had been, what I had given up, and where I wanted to go.

I was tired of thinking, to be honest. For someone who handled emotions on a daily basis, it seemed that the biggest thing that was fucking me up was that I was thinking too much. I had gotten so used to shielding tightly, that I wasn’t letting myself feel anymore.

The memory of that night stuck out to me. I glanced at the wall, taking in the faded picture of my grandmother’s apple tree. It had been the one she had re-grown after the fire and she had cared for it all on her own.

“I’m not happy here,” I said finally, turning my attention back to them. “You’re right, Nina. I’m stuck here and it’s my fault. And I have no clue what I want to do.”

Nina frowned at me and I shock my head.

 “I really don’t. And that’s the thing. I haven’t really had a plan once I graduated from Oxford. I had vague ideas and knew what I didn’t want. But never a plan. And I thought that was a bad thing. I thought I needed to have my A,B and Cs laid out or else what was the point?”

I dropped my bag next to the couch and Nina scooted over so I could sit next to her. Chester hopped off and gave us a squinted look before slinking out into the hallway. I plopped down and laid my head back so I could stare up at the ceiling. I was exhausted and hungry now, feeling drained from exerting so much energy.

“I’m starting to think that’s my biggest hang up. Sometimes, you don’t need have a detailed list. Maybe having a strong goal is good enough to start with. And then, you take stock of your options and figure out which one is the best to get you to where you need to go.”

I titled my head to look at Nina and I could see it in her eyes. She knew what I was getting at and was trying not to smile.

“I’m not saying it’ll work, or if I’ll get accepted, but….” I trailed off and let out a sigh. “It’s my best option out of here if it works. And if it doesn’t well, at least I’m taking the first step to do something more than just wait around for something else to pop up. I’m tired of waiting, I think.”

Learn to let go of the past and let yourself re-grow.

 “So, you’ll do it?” Nina asked and I nodded. “Yes! Trust me, girl, you got this!”

I shrugged and glanced at my grandmother. She was beaming at me and I  knew Nina had told her everything. I opened my shields, willing to share in their happiness and love, letting it soothe my nerves. It was a nice way to replace all the other things I had been feeling lately.

“You found your reason, then?” she asked and I smiled at her.

“Yeah,” I said and sat up straighter. “I’m not going to live my life by my regrets anymore. And if I do this, if I get into this program and go to Wakanda. Well, maybe, it’s the step I need to get over my past and use this opportunity to work towards that future I want.”

“That’s a good start,” she said and nodded her head. “And I have a feeling that’s all you need.”

_____________

TWO WEEKS LATER.

“Your resume is impressive, but I see that you’ve moved through a few jobs in recent years. Could you explain that?”

 

My interviewer’s name was Amina and her accented voice was light and pleasant. It was the kind of voice that let you know she probably had a nice laugh too.

Despite being her last interview of the day, her eyes were still focused and engaged, hands clasped lightly in front of her as they rested on the table. And her energy signature confirmed to me that she was from Wakanda. It was too similar to the energies I had felt before for me to think otherwise.

 

Maybe I would finally get a chance to ask why theirs was different from other people.

 

“I’ve always been taught to stay true to what I believe in,” I said, picking my words carefully. “And I believe that where I work is a reflection of that. When I find a job, I want to make sure that the company’s values line up with mine. Sometimes, you don’t discover the truth of that until you start working somewhere for a while. It doesn’t sit right with me to work for a place I don’t believe in and if I find that our values don’t add up, I decide to move on.”

 

Her eyes dropped to skim my resume again. She had an electronic version and she scrolled down on an expensive looking tablet. I had never seen that brand before.

 

“And you’re currently working at Kevin’s Krafts?” she asked and glanced back up at me. “And how does this position align with your values?”

 

She had a way of asking the question that made you know she wanted a real answer. There was no judgment in her tone, but there was an authority to it. She was the type of person who wasn’t afraid to push you on answer if she didn’t buy into it.

 

But I had expected that question though. Kevin’s Kraft was always going to be a curious spot on my resume. 

 

“After I left my last employer, I was aware that I still needed to take care of my living expenses. Kevin’s Krafts may not be the most influential place, as they’re a smaller chain. However, my friend was an arts high school teacher and my employer has provided arts supplies to her class for lower prices. They also help sponsor drives for the school as its arts budget is pretty limited.”

 

Amina hummed thoughtfully and typed something into her pad with one hand, her fingers moving quickly. That was some skill and it was interesting to watch.

 

I waited patiently for her to ask her next question, my hands folded in my lap. I had meditated this morning to ensure that my shields would stay strong and to help ease my nerves. The closer this day came, the more I realized how much I actually really wanted to go.

 

“Could you tell me why you are interested in this program and what you hope to gain from it?” she asked, seeming to have decided on her next question.

 

I paused, learning that she didn’t seem to mind when you took your time to think about your answers. This one was harder but I had finally come up with my reason.

 

“I have only been out of the country once, when I attended Oxford,” I said. “And it was the best experience of my life. Not only did I receive a great education, I met new people, had new experiences and tried new things and faced new challenges.”

 

_Had my first heartbreak. Met a Prince._

 

Not the time.

 

 “And that’s what traveling is supposed to be about, right? At least that’s what it should be. You want to challenge yourself with new views and make new discoveries, all in the hope that it will make you better as a person.” 

 

Amina studied me with a neutral expression and I resisted the urge to peek at her feelings. It would likely distract me anyway. She wasn’t disinterested, but she wasn’t giving anything away.

 

“Wakanda is supposed to be the most technologically advanced country in the world. It would be a wonderful opportunity, given that you have what I assume is a wealth of knowledge and resources. Being able to show on my resume that I was a part of such a program would be a huge boost and could help me in my goals to finding a great career. But that’s not why I want to go.”

 

Amina’s eyebrows rose slightly, but that was the only indication that I had surprised her.

“To be honest, I thought about it a lot. I know that Wakanda is an amazing country, blending tradition with technology, the old with the new, expanding beyond a level that most countries are still working towards.”

 

I had done my research beforehand. It had been a bit difficult because his face was everywhere related to Wakanda now, but that was kind of helping at least. Kind of like exposure therapy. The more I looked at him, the more it hurt less. I might actually be to the point where I could see him in person without feeling that familiar pain.

 

But fuck, he was still fine. And that sentiment was just based off of pictures. The real T’Challa would be….

 

Not the time.

 

 “And that’s amazing and all that. But that’s within Wakanda. What about the connections and advancements that could be made working with others? How much greater could Wakanda be if they connected with others? What if there was an opportunity to not only learn from Wakanda but share with them too?”

 

“You wish to go so you can teach Wakanda?” she asked and I could hear the surprise in her voice. 

 

“I would say it’s more of a mutual teaching. When you travel, it’s not just a chance for you to learn about others, it’s also a chance for them to learn about you. To get a glimpse into your world and through that you’re bridging two worlds together. If I’m accepted, I could work to build that bridge. I’m not saying I’m a representative from the outside world or anything, because we’re all too different to be truly represented by one voice. But what I’m saying is that if the world wants to grow better, we have to do more than just take. We should not only learn about Wakanda, but we should give something  back so Wakanda can learn from us. I want to give back too, in any way I can.”

 

Amina was smiling now, but it wasn’t mocking. She seemed to be pleasantly astonished by my answer. Her eyes returned to her pad and she was typing again and I took the chance to let out a breath and flex my fingers in my lap.

 

“I was reading through your essay,” she said and I refocused on her, “and I admit that it was a very interesting read. Do you feel that being a mutant has played an important role in your decision making when it comes to your plans for the future?”

 

I felt shock lock my muscles and kept me from answering immediately. Amina’s eyes were still on her tablet as she kept skimming.

 

My heart was pounding, but I willed the words to come out steady.

 

“Why would you think I was a mutant?” I asked and felt triumph. My words came out light, with no hint of strain.

 

Amina glanced up at me and there was curiosity in her eyes.

 

“Your essay was so in depth, to the point that I felt that your own experiences must have shaped these views. My apologies, I hadn’t meant to assume…” she said, and I gave her a smile. It felt weak, but it was there.

 

“I just try to be as open-minded as possible,” I said, and she paused her eyes searching mine. They were looking at me closely, as if she were trying to look past my words.

I couldn’t help it. I had to look away and let myself focus on a spot behind her ear instead.

 

“I think it’s important to consider other people’s experiences even if they’re not our own. In that way, we can move closer to sympathizing with people, even if we can’t completely understand what they’re going through,” I explained, the words coming out steady.

 

My heart was still pounding, my stomach clenching as she continued to look at me.

“Mutants and other enhanced humans are another group in society that are not well understood,” she said and lowered her tablet to rest on the table.

 

“Their existence is met with fear, because fear is easier to grasp when faced with the unknown. However, to ascribe only to this fear shows the lack of maturity that is needed to truly understand those who are different from us. There are mutants in Wakanda and there are attempts to move past fear and into the realm of understanding.”

 

I stared at her, startled by her words. She held my gaze steadily for a moment and quirked her lips slightly.

 

Was she admitting something to me? Or urging me to admit something to her?

“I see,” I said, “that seems very forward thinking?”

She was giving me a half smile and there was something that flashed through her eyes for a moment. Sadness? Frustration?

 

“Yes,” she said and sighed. “But unfortunately, there will always be prejudice wherever one goes, as that is something that no society can truly overcome.”

 

“No one is perfect,” I pointed out. “It’s a part of human nature to fear what you don’t understand. And there’s a lot of things in the world today that many people can’t understand.”

 

“Or refuse to try,” she said and sighed. “I apologize, I got off track. However, we are at the end of this interview.”

 

She pulled out a small clutch and opened it. She said handed me a business card and I looked at it curiously.

 

“There is just one more step in this process. We will schedule a time for you to call this number and it will be based on your time zone. Please make sure that you are prompt and do not miss this appointment, or we will have to disqualify you as an applicant for the program.”

 

I took the business card and looked at it, feeling surprised. There was no name, just a phone number written in elegant script.

 

“Ah, is this your number?” I asked.

 

“No,” she said and just smiled at me.

 

Huh.

 

“Wait, you’re moving me on to the next step? I mean, you don’t need to review my interview or anything?  Speak to the higher ups or something?” I asked, turning the card over. There was nothing on the back either.

 

Amina raised an amused brow.

 

“Would you prefer to drop out now?” she asked, and I quickly shook my head.

 

“No! I’m just surprised with how quickly this moving along,” I said.

“We have had a bit of trouble internally when it comes to this program. The spots have been reduced from five to two to help quell the concerns of those who dissent,” she explained. “But the King has made it very clear that while this may be a trial program, he is determined to see it through, regardless of the number of participants.”

 

Stubborn as always it seemed. T’Challa may listen to the concerns of others, but if he made his mind up on something he was going to do it. Seems that hadn’t changed with him becoming King.

 

“I have been given the authority to deem whether it is appropriate to move you on to the next step,” Amina continued. “From our conversation, I believe that moving you forward is the right move.”

 

I blinked at her and then couldn’t help my wide grin.

 

“Thank you so much,” I said and felt my excitement bubbling up. “Really, I know how selective this program is and I truly appreciate the chance.”

 

“You are welcome,” she said and stood. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Dawson. I wish you the best of luck.”

 

“It was nice to meet you too,” I said and shook her hand. “Really, this was a great experience and I appreciate you taking the time to see me.”

 

She nodded and returned my smile.

 

“Remember, Miss Dawson,” she said as I moved to leave. “Make sure to keep your appointment. That is very important.”

 

There was a hint of amusement in her eyes as she looked at me.

 

“And make sure to be yourself. I believe that will be to your advantage.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 

 “So, what did you tell Kevin?” Nina asked, lying flat on her back on my bed. One leg was propped over the other and she rolled her ankle absently.

 

“I haven’t said anything yet,” I said shaking my head. “It’s not like I’m quitting you know.”

 

Nina blew a raspberry and tucked her hands under her head.

 

“Girl, they set up an appointment for you that same day. And it’s been like what a week? That’s faster than most job interviews here nowadays. You may want to go ahead and put in your two weeks’ notice.”

 

I couldn’t help but smile at her assuredness.

 

Though, she did have a point. It was just a temporary program, but I felt a renewed sense of purpose. I wasn’t going to be satisfied going back to my old job and settling back into the routine that I was trying to escape. Even if I didn’t get in, I was going to start looking for something else to do with my life.

 

 “You nervous?” Nina asked, sitting up and crossing her legs beneath her.  

 

“I’m just kind of ready to get it over with, you know? I mean, this is the last chance for me to impress them,” I said and gazed down at the card.

 

“And it’s not your interviewer?” she asked, and I shook my head. “Well, whoever it is, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just be yourself.”

 

I smiled at her and let my eyes flicker to the card.

 

“That’s what Amina said,” I murmured.

 

“See? If you just stay yourself and be honest, you’re good!”

 

I hope so.

 

We watched the clock anxiously, trying to distract ourselves with music and chatting and catching up. When it was time, Nina hopped up and I dialed the number. I eyed Nina as she paced my room, hoping she’d settle. As the phone began ringing, I glared at her, annoyed as her bubbling excitement was putting me on edge.

  
“Would you chill?” I hissed. “You’re stressing me out.”

 

“Just shield me or something,” she said. “I’m too excited.”

 

I was ready to scold her again when the phone clicked, and I waved a hand at her. She plopped down on the edge of my bed and grinned at me.

 

“Hello?” I asked, keeping my voice steady. “My name is Jenna Dawson and I’m calling for my appointment for the Wakandan Summer Program?”

 

“Please hold,” an accented female voice responded.

 

“What did they say?” Nina whispered.

 

“I’m on hold,” I whispered back. “And seriously, either calm down or get out of my room.”

 

She pursed her lips at me, but I saw her take a deep breath to calm down. That wasn’t a bad idea. I did the same and we took one deep breath together.

 

“You are now being transferred,” the voice said suddenly. “Please do not hang up.”

  
I wasn’t sure if it was automated or not, but I said okay anyway. Didn’t hurt to be polite, regardless.

 

I had no idea what to expect. Amina had just said it was the last step in the process, but I had to assume it was an interview. I responded to the email she sent me and tried garnering more details, but she had stayed vague.

 

 _Probably just another coordinator. No big deal._   
  
“Hello, Jenna.”

 

No. No fucking way. I would never forget that voice, would never get tired of hearing it.

 

“It has been a while,” T’Challa continued and his voice stroked along my skin, making my breath hitch.

 

“T’Challa?” I squeaked. “Why are you…”

 

Oh, I was fucked. There’s no way he was going to let me in. I thought I had a shot because I had assumed that he was too busy as King to actually take part in the application process.

 

“As I am the main advocate for this program, I felt it was appropriate to speak with the final candidates myself,” he explained, obviously catching onto my confusion.

 

Nina was staring at me, her eyes wide. She had heard, and I knew she was just as surprised as I was.

 

“Ah, I see,” I said and cleared my throat. “Um, could you give me a second?”

 

“Of course,” he said, and I quickly put him on mute.

 

“Oh my God,” Nina gasped. “Why is it him? Isn’t he too busy to deal with this?”

 

“He said he wanted to be a part of the process,” I said and rubbed a hand across my brows. “That sounds just like him.”

 

I looked up at her worriedly.

 

“Should I hang up?” I asked, and she frowned at me.

 

“No, of course not,” she said, shaking her head. “Why would you do that?”

 

“I’m done,” I sighed. “It was one thing when it was just a neutral party, but it’s him, Nina. I haven’t spoken to him in, how long? We didn’t end things on the best of terms. And I didn’t answer any of his calls or texts and….”

 

“Look, if that was the case, he wouldn’t have answered the phone, right?” Nina insisted. “So, he’s obviously willing to consider you.”

 

“Or he’s going to get back at me,” I muttered, and Nina’s eyes widened. “Let me go through the process just to tell me himself I’m denied.”

 

“Would he really do something like that?” she asked, appalled.

  
I thought about it. T’Challa was many things, but there had never been a streak of petty vengefulness in him. If he truly didn’t want me to be a part of the program, he would have likely removed my application as soon as he saw my name. It had been a long time, but I felt confident enough to know that.

 

I shook my head.

 

“Ok, so get back on the phone and stick to the game plan. Just be yourself,” Nina said and made her way to the door. “I’m gonna step out, if that helps?”

 

I could still feel her all her emotions and I nodded. All that was doing was compounding on my own and I was starting to get a headache.

 

“Yeah,” I said and gave her a weak smile. “Thanks, Nina.”

 

She flashed me a thumbs up before closing my bedroom door behind her.

 

_You can do this. You can do this. You can..._

The memories of the last night I spoke to T’Challa filtered to my mind and I swallowed.

 

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered to myself.

_________________

FLASHBACK. OXFORD UNIVERSITY – EIGHT YEARS AGO.

“And you’re sure you’re ok with me going?”  I asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Nakia asked and she sounded genuinely confused.

I peered at myself in my mirror as I tugged at the beautiful red evening gown.  I moved the cellphone, which I had placed on speaker, with me to the bed.  

The dress had been a gift from T’Challa and it was _the_ nicest piece of clothing that I had. It was made of a pure red silk, floor length and showed enough skin to make me feel both beautiful, yet still modest.

I had been horrified when he gave it for me, not believing his claim that it was an early graduation gift. When I tried to give it back, he had turned those brown eyes on me and asked if I would really return a heart-felt gift from a friend.

 I had been overwhelmed, completely touched with how generous he could be.

_“No need for tears,” he had said and there was a hint of worry. “Surely you have received gifts before.”_

_“Not like this, T,” I had said and wiped furiously at the tears as they spilled. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”_

_He had given me a long look before pulling me into a hug, hushing me._

“Well,” I said, hesitantly. “I mean, I’m going to be T’Challa’s plus one and I’m not sure if you two are…”

“It’s fine, Jenna,” Nakia said, cutting me off. “You always worry about the silliest things.”

I sighed. True, but that still wasn’t an answer.

“Ok, fine,” I said and turned to find my purse. “Well, the other reason I called was I wanted to let you know that I wanted to tell you something.”

“Which is?”

“I don’t want to tell you now,” I said, tucking a pair of lip-gloss into my small clutch. “I’m going to tell you later.”

Nakia gave an amused snort.

“So you called to tell me that there’s something you’re going to tell me, just not now.”

I narrowed my eyes, though I knew she couldn’t see me. She laughed anyway.

“Look, smart ass,” I muttered. “I’m telling you this, so you can hold me accountable. It’s a big deal and I don’t want to back out.”

Her laughter quieted, but I would bet she was still smiling.

“All right,” she said. “I will make sure to hold you to it then. It’s important?”

“Very important.”

She grew quiet at the seriousness in my tone.

“All right.”

I wanted them both to know. No more suspicions or unasked questions. My term at Oxford was coming to a close and I didn’t want to leave without putting in one real effort of trying to establish something long lasting with them. I knew T’Challa would have to return to Wakanda, just as Nakia had, but maybe, there could be something that could keep us together.

And that meant trusting them enough to tell my secret. When I had called Nakia, I had planned on telling her first, but I lost my nerve. Or maybe I should tell her now and then T’Challa later.

And what if only one freaked out? What if they both did? What if neither of them ever talk to me again?

Shit. I was starting to regret opening my mouth. 

“You know what?” I groaned. “Forget everything I just said.”

“Hmm, no, that’s not how it works,” Nakia responded. “You’ve already told me to keep you accountable.”

“Not if I don’t call you back,” I muttered and plopped down onto my bed.

“Fine,” she sniffed. “Then I’ll just tell T’Challa.”

“Tell me what?”

T’Challa stepped into my bedroom and I looked him over. He was wearing a tailored tuxedo suit and was adjusting one of his cuffs. The suit accentuated the broadness of his shoulders and the slimness of his waist.

_Does he have to look good in everything?_

“Don’t you knock?” I muttered, eying him. 

“The door was open, Jenna,” he said dryly and glanced at my phone. “What are you two talking about?”

“Jenna has something she wants to tell us,” Nakia said quickly. “And she wants to make sure we don’t let her get out of it.”

“Nakia!”

“Isn’t that what you said?” she retorted back.

“Yes, but I mean… it was just a reminder, not a promise.”

“Well it doesn’t really matter now, because I want to know. So now it is a promise.”

“I am curious too,” T’Challa remarked, lips curved into a smile as he grinned at me. “Just tell us now.”

“I….”

The words wouldn’t come and I looked away. I fiddled with the clasp of my clutch and let out a sigh.

“I can’t,” I said softly. “Not yet, ok? I’m already freaking out about meeting your dad tonight.”

T’Challa was being honored at another awards ceremony. It happened so often and he didn’t always show up to them, but this was the last one of the academic year. And aside from his father’s attendance, he had asked me to be his plus one. He had done it with that crooked smile that I couldn’t say no to.

“Jenna, just be yourself,” Nakia said, re-assuredly. “You’ll be fine.”

“That’s what I told her,” T’Challa muttered and I shot him a look.

My attempts to divert the conversation worked, but T’Challa gave me a look that showed me he knew what I was doing. I grinned at him and he rolled his eyes.

Nakia sounded like she was speaking to someone on the other side of the phone before she turned to back to the receiver.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” she said. “But you will call me later, yes?”

I knew the question was directed at me and I let out a sigh.

“Yes,” I said, plucking at my comforter.

“Try not to sound so pained by it,” she said dryly and I couldn’t help the small laugh. “Nwabisa namhlanje, eh?”

I furrowed my brows, trying to figure out what she had said.

“Something about fun?” I asked.

“She said to have fun tonight,” T’Challa prompted.

“Damnit, I should have known that one,” I muttered.

There was a pause and then Nakia said something quickly in Xhosa and T’Challa frowned. I didn’t catch a word and was curious by the flicker of irritation in him.

“Bye, Jenna,” she called and before I could demand to know what she said, she hung up.

“Well, that’s not fair,” I muttered and turned to T’Challa. “What did she say? Something about ‘secret’?”

T’Challa shook his head and moved to crouch in front of me. I pouted at him and he chuckled.

“If you practiced more you’d know,” he said simply.

“Well, excuse me,” I huffed. He chuckled and started working one of my black, strapped heels onto my feet. “What are you doing?”

My skin tingled at his touch and I tried not to focus on his long, agile fingers that easily slipped the straps through the clasps before he moved onto the next one.

“Helping you get ready,” he said simply. “We will be late if I left you on your own.”

I narrowed my eyes at his words but couldn’t come up with a proper retort. I was too distracted.

When he buckled the last shoe, he slid his hands up my calves and paused just at the back of my knees. My skin felt warm all over and I swallowed as I met his eyes.

_What the hell is going on?_

“You know, Jenna,” he remarked lightly, holding my gaze. “I have truly valued our time together.”

I blinked at that, trying to ignore the heat of his hands on my legs.

“Oh, me too,” I said, when I realized he was waiting for a response. “I’m going to miss you when you go home.”

My words had him shifting slightly, his hands coming up to rest on the bed on either side of me.

“Perhaps,” he said, his eyes drifting across my face. “You won’t have to.”

My eyes widened and I searched his face, trying to gain understanding to his words. He quirked his lips at me slightly and then rose to his feet.

“What does that mean?” I asked, gazing up at him.

I accepted the hand he held out to me and let him help me to my feet. I wobbled in the heels and he rested a hand on my waist to steady me. The heat spread through my body, my heart racing at his closeness.

“T,” I insisted, noting he hadn’t answered my question. “What does that mean?”

He nudged his hand under my chin and just gave me a smile.

“What?”  he teased. “You are allowed to hold your secrets and I can’t hold mine?”

I opened and closed my mouth and then huffed.

“Smart asses,” I muttered. “The both of you.”  


T’Challa just laughed.

 

__________________

 

The evening started well enough.

I met King T’Chaka at the event, who had come separately, flanked by two beautiful bald women. I had been curious to see them, but T’Challa mentioned that they were bodyguards. I had expressed how awesome that his family had female bodyguards and he had just smiled.

T’Challa had introduced me to his father and the King had taken my hand with a polite smile. When I shook his hand, I was intensely curious to make another discovery. The energy he gave off was just as strong as his son’s, if not stronger. Even the two bald women had a similar energy.

_Definitely a Wakandan thing, then._

We sat down to dinner and I remembered all of my table manners. T’Challa’s presence was a comfort to my nerves and I welcomed his calming energy. T’Challa knew how nervous I was and had kept conversation flowing by asking me questions he knew I could answer. As I grew more passionate about my subjects, my nervousness had lessened, and I was pleased to notice that King T’Chaka seemed to listen.

I had spared a few pleased glances with T’Challa and he had flashed me that crooked smile of his. When we had paused to listen to a few speakers and when T’Challa accepted his award I had clapped loudly for him. I had relaxed enough where I could still tease and chat with T’Challa as the evening went on, leaning close to each other so we could speak quietly. I hid my giggles and smiles behind napkins and made a better effort to collect myself when I noticed that King T’Chaka was watching us.

The look he gave me wasn’t exactly disapproving, but I still felt as if I were doing something wrong. The look sobered me and I tried to curb my playful tendencies. By the time dessert came, I felt a nagging sense of unease. Instead of picking at my plate, I figured it’d be better to excuse myself.

 ____________________

In the bathroom, I took the time to reassure myself that I was just reading too much into things. I did a quick re-check of my mental shields and then smoothed down my dress. Satisfied that I had gotten myself together, I left the bathroom, determined that I would win the King over.

I was making my way back to the banquet room, idly fiddling with the damn clasp of my clutch when I heard King T’Chaka’s voice.

“You seem to be very close to her, T’Challa.”

I paused at the words, my clutch forgotten.

“Yes, baba,” T’Challa said simply. “I’ve grown to know her over the last three years.”

I peered around the corner, spotting them near a large, curtained window. The banquet hall wasn’t too far from here, but I knew from my wait staff shifts that there wouldn’t be too many people who trafficked in this area.

“She is bright,” King T’Chaka said. “And I commend her on her dedication to her studies.”

T’Challa’s back was to me, so I hadn’t been able to read his expression. I could feel my heart pounding as I listened. It was rude for me to stay and listen, wasn’t it?

“She is very familiar with you, T’Challa.”

“Baba,” T’Challa said carefully.

I felt silly, trying to listen without being seen. Yet, I couldn’t get my feet to move.

“She is from America, yes?” King T’Chaka asked.

T’Challa nodded and the King sighed.

“An outsider,” King T’Chaka remarked. “Your worlds are very different from one another.”

T’Challa didn’t answer, but there was a stiffness to his shoulders. I wish I could see his face.

King T’Chaka frowned slightly at his son’s expression. 

“You are Prince, my son. You will one day be King. And as impressive as her credentials may seem, she will not be able to follow you on this path.”

T’Challa remained silent and his father clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“I wished for you to experience the world, so you may learn why it is important that we must protect Wakanda. You have done well, and I can see that it has given you more  compassion. That is a good thing. But we are not of the world, T’Challa. This girl, she is but a passing moment, a small chapter in your life. Nakia is better suited to be your Queen and you know this.”

The words had me stepping back, my hands curling around my clutch. I pressed my back against the wall and felt a tremor go through my body.

I couldn’t listen anymore and I knew I couldn’t go back into the banquet room without passing them.

_Of all the times for them to speak in English._

____________________

The two banquet rooms in the building shared a large balcony that connected one banquet room to the other from the outside. I was able to get through the empty banquet room to make it to the balcony, hoping that the night air would help my state of mind. At least we were in the warmer months now, and only a slight breeze gave a chill to the air. I leaned against the railing of the balcony, absently hearing the classical music that was playing in the occupied banquet hall behind me.

I didn’t know if T’Challa and his father had returned to their seats. I didn’t know how long it’d take for T’Challa to come looking for me.

_At this point, would he even bother?_

I closed my eyes as a few tears spilled and drew in a ragged breath.

I had been so fucking stupid. My nonchalance with his royal status had been a mistake. T’Challa was a Prince and was going to be a King one day. He had a whole country and people to look after.

Who the hell was I?

“Jenna.”

I stiffened at my name and didn’t turn around. I quickly rubbed my face, trying to hide the evidence of my tears as he approached. He came to stand next to me, but I couldn’t bring myself to face him. I made sure to keep my shields tighter when I was around him now. It was safer that way, for me at least. Safer than knowing how he really felt.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, and I just shrugged.

A moment of silence passed between us and I wondered how long he would wait. I could feel him looking at me but didn’t face him directly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him tilt his head and then he reached a hand over to gently grasp my chin. He turned me to meet his gaze, his brows furrowing as he took in my tear-streaked face.

“You have been crying,” he murmured, concern clear in his voice. “Why?”

I tugged my face away and let my eyes drift forward, studying the string of lights that wrapped around one of the columns of the balcony. 

“I’m fine,” I said and wiped at my face again. “I just needed some air.”

“What happened?” he asked.  

“Nothing,” I said and shifting my focus on the blinking light of a bicycle that moved along a path. 

A few more seconds ticked by and I could feel those dark brown eyes watching me, trying to come up with a reason for my mood.

“Then what has caused you to become so upset? You’re not one to cry for minor things,” he said, and I felt his fingers drift to my arm. “Please, tell me how I can help.”

“It’s nothing,” I said, trying to ignore his touch. “There’s nothing wrong.” 

“Jenna,” T’Challa said. He was using that tone that reminded me that he would one day be a King. “Look at me.”

I was keeping my tears at bay, but as I blinked a few of them spilled again. I turned to face him, my hands clenched.

_She is not your future, T’Challa. You must remember this._

The words hurt because they were true. I had to remember that life never works in the way you want.

“Tell me what is wrong,” T’Challa said, and his voice grew gentle. “What happened to change your mood so quickly?”

What had I expected? I would tell him and Nakia and then what? I was getting dangerously close to admitting something…. something I knew would never happen.

“Jenna,” he said again and I hadn’t realized I was crying until he cupped my face, his thumbs wiping at the tears as they fell. “Entle, please, tell me what happened.”

I had never heard that word before.

“Stop,” I said and pushed his hands away. “Stop being so nice to me.”

I took a step back, willing myself to calm down. Emotions were a tricky thing. Even when you try pushing them down, they have a way of showing through anyway. And it was easy to merge into another emotion. One second, you’re sad and the next you’re angry. They all line up like that and if you’re primed for them, they can change, like flicking a switch.

_I can’t love him. I can’t!_

“Your dad’s really nice,” I said and he blinked at the change in subject. “Very regal and poised. I can see where you get it from.”

T’Challa didn’t say anything, just looked at me, his hands held loose at his sides. He had picked up on my tone.

 

I needed something to focus my anger on, something to help cover the pain that was blossoming in my chest.

 

“I guess your social experiment was a success then?” I asked and he frowned. “I mean, your dad seemed to like me in that sense, huh?”

  
“What are you talking about?”

 

“All of this,” I said and gestured to the space between us. “You got your glimpse into the real world, was nice to a poor girl, all that good Samaritan stuff before you go home.”

 

His conflicted emotions were strong enough now that he was leaking through. He wasn’t happy and he was confused.

 

_Join the club._

  
“I mean, props to you, Your Highness,” I said and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “I think it takes an extra type of person to stick it out this long, hanging with us commoners.”

T’Challa gazed at me for a moment, his face sliding into a blank mask.

“You always have a way of turning things around to suit you,” he said finally and it was my turn to tense. “Instead of being honest, you choose to attack. I have told you, that is not the best way to win an argument, Jenna.”

 I glared at him, clinging to my anger, focusing on it instead.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Your Highness,” and I felt the simmering of his own anger. “You know how difficult it is for me to keep up with you.”

The use of his title had him closing off from me, his face settling into that neutral expression. But I knew him well enough now. I knew he was pissed.

Guilt flickered through me because deep down, it wasn’t fair to T’Challa.

_This girl, she is but a passing moment, a small chapter in your life._

But I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I could keep living in this fantasy in my head with a feeling that was so strong it scared me to admit it. I had to snap out of it.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be friends anymore.”

I said the words with shockingly finality and I felt his surprise. And then hurt.

“Why?” he asked, his tone even.

That’s what did it. Even though I could feel his emotions stirring underneath, on the surface he seemed unbothered. And I had seen him upset before, had seen the visible signs of it. But now, faced with my declaration, he had decided to show me nothing instead.

Maybe it’s what he wanted too and I had just made it easier for him.

“This was fun while it lasted,” I said and he frowned. “But let’s be honest, there’s nothing special about it.”

_Not true. Not true._

It was the most special relationship I ever had. The memories would be carried with me, now turned into a weight that I wouldn’t be able shake.

But I couldn’t stick around and just wait for his rejection. I knew this conversation would happen eventually and I refused to be the one receiving it. At least this way, I could control how it happened.

 

“You think our relationship meant nothing?” he asked, still in that even tone. “That the moments we had together were meaningless?”

 

“It wasn’t a relationship,” I said and waved a hand, trying to appear casual. “I mean yeah, we hung out, but it’s not like they meant…”

 

He pulled me into his arms suddenly, his lips finding mine instantly. I didn’t even think, I fell into the kiss automatically. It was something I had been wanting for so long, something that had been just out of reach. His hands found my waist and pulled me flush against him, and I threw my arms around his broad shoulders. His tongue swept across my lips and I parted them for him. He kissed me deeply and I felt the weight of my desire, warm in my belly.

And just like that, I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions.

It was a mixture of anger, frustration, sadness, desperation and one emotion that I couldn’t let myself name. Even worse was that I couldn’t tell which feeling belonged to who. We had melded together and as I clung to him, it became more difficult to tell them apart. I lost myself in the moment, in the feel of him, the taste of him, almost forgetting why I had been so upset in the first place.

 

  _Nakia is better suited to be your Queen and you know this._

 

I pulled away, the thought bringing me back to reality. I had closed my eyes when he kissed me and felt him brush his lips lightly along mine. I braced my hands on his chest and struggled to collect myself. I couldn’t tell if it was to keep myself from going back into his arms or to keep him from pulling me towards him.

 

“That’s not fair,” I whispered. “You know that’s not fucking fair.”

 

“As you say, that’s life,” he said and his hands slid to hold my arms by the elbows. “And is a sentiment I can fully understand now.”

 

What the hell did that mean?

 

I opened my eyes and shook my head, trying to wade through the feelings that clouded me.

 

“What is this? Some late teenage rebellion?” I asked, immediately latching onto the frustration that was growing stronger. “Didn’t get the chance to act out when you were younger and now you’re trying to make up for it?” 

 

T’Challa shook his head and his hands slid up to circle my wrists. 

  
Was I amused, or was he? Was it my lust or was it his? Was I frustrated or was he the one who was irritated? Who was it directed towards?

 

Why were our emotions so mixed together? This has never happened before. I had never connected with someone to the point that we were feeling the same thing so closely. I didn’t know that was something I could do.

 

“It will never be easy with you, will it, entle?” he murmured and raised my hand to press a kiss to my wrist. A spark of pleasure licked along my skin and I had to hold back a gasp.

 

Feeling what someone was feeling was one thing, but to actively share in those emotions. This was a whole new experience.

 

“What does ‘entle’ mean?” I asked and he smirked at me.

 

“It means beautiful,” he said and I swallowed at the heat in his eyes.

 

The emotions weren’t dimming down and I could feel the pleasant warmth of his vibrant energy. It made sense now, at least a little bit. My shields had dropped as soon as he had kissed me. I hadn’t expected him to do that and the surprise had made me careless.

 

“Don’t call me that,” I said and he frowned at me.

 

“Why? That is what you are,” he said.

 

“What is wrong with you?” I said, searching his face. “You’ve never been…”

 

I trailed off, not sure what I wanted to say.

 

“Do you really want to let all of this go?” T’Challa asked me, ignoring my own question. “Walk away from everything?”

  
I tugged at my wrist and he let it go easily.

 

“What are you asking me?” I demanded. “If I felt there was something special between us?”

 

He just looked at me and I curled my hand into a fist.

 

I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t be the first to say it.

 

But I understood that meant I couldn’t be with him. That much was clear now. I wasn’t the type of person to go along with the façade of friendship, feeling how I felt and knowing it couldn’t be returned. We had teased at the line a few times, but we had never crossed it. And I had been ready to tell him everything before.

Then this stupid night had to happen and he had go and kiss me.

_He’s a damn good kisser too._

The errant thought almost made me laugh. Instead, I took a deep breath and took a step away from him.

It would hurt, but I knew what I had to do.

I was open to him now, our emotions so mixed together that this may be easier. I focused on only the feelings of hurt and anger and pulled on them, even as I felt the pain in my chest and my stomach clench uncomfortably. It was going to take a toll on me physically, but better to get it over with now.

I met T’Challa’s gaze and I felt a shift in him, a tension lining his body. I ignored that and instead focused on pushing my emotions to him, towards that strong, vibrant energy.

“Do you love Nakia?” I asked him. “I mean, you guys are probably going to get married one day, right?”

I hated that it was the only question I could think to ask. I wanted him distracted, because it would be easier to push into him.

His hands clenched into fists, but he didn’t answer. I huffed and wrapped my arms around myself, still silently working.

“Not that it’s any of my business,” I pressed, watching the emotions shift across his face. “I mean none of the stuff between you two is ever any of my business.”

It was working. The hurt and anger had settled in and I saw him take a step back from me. My heart was breaking but this was working.

“What does Nakia have to do with us?” he asked.

He was resisting me, his energy pulsing and straining against what I was pushing at him.

Of fucking course. Leave it to T’Challa to be emotionally mature enough to process his own emotions. I had never tried pushing any emotions into him, never tried influencing how he felt. It made sense that he had a strong will though.

“She’s your future bride, right?” I pointed out and drew on my own pain. “It kind of felt that’s what your dad was getting at.”

The mention of his father did it. A flicker of guilt and doubt caused him to waiver and he looked away for a second. I used my pain and drove it through, breaking past that last wall.

“Kind of why I don’t want to be friends anymore, you know?” I pressed, pushing on. “Nakia is my friend and I gotta have her back. Girl power and all that.”

The truth made this work too. My confliction wasn’t just how I felt about T’Challa. It had a lot to do with Nakia too.  

_How could I love T’Challa and still be true to my friendship with Nakia?_

 “Which I guess is my bad,” I said softly. “After all, if I were really a friend to both of you, I would have told you sooner.”

T’Challa turned his eyes back to me and the pain settled at the look in them. It wasn’t rejection, but I had properly pushed in the pain and anger. He was closed off from me now, sliding his hands into his pockets as he regarded me. Any warmth T’Challa had for me was closed off.

“Told us what?” he asked, and his voice was flat.

“I’m done with all this,” I said. “I’m done playing the little American friend to whatever ‘will they or won’t they’ game you two have going on.”

“Are we friends or aren’t we?” he demanded. “You said there was no relationship earlier. Which is it?”

I stared at him, startled. I hadn’t expected him to question me on it. All I was getting from him was anger and hurt. Any other person would have left me alone, would have been pissed to be near me.

Yet here T’Challa was, still pressing me on something. How could I win against someone who could steady themselves better than I could?

It made me want to drop the whole thing and tell him everything. It made me want to go into his arms and cry.

It made me realize that I truly had to let him go.

“Would you just leave me alone?” I whispered.

Something shifted across his face, but I had shielded myself, locked myself in my own turmoil of emotions. There was pain and heartbreak here, but I did what needed to be done.

“Jenna…”

“Apologies, My Prince.”

We both turned to see one of the bald women standing at the balcony entrance, her gaze trained on us. Her eyes flickered to me and although she didn’t frown, I could feel her assessing me. She returned her gaze to her Prince and inclined her head.

 

“The King is looking for you.”

 

T’Challa nodded to her and she spared me a brief glance before returning inside. T’Challa glanced back to me and I simply gazed back at him, my brows furrowed, refusing to let the tears spill. His eyes swept across my face and then he shook his head and walked away. When he made it to the entryway, he paused and turned his eyes to me, looking as if he wanted to say something.

 

I held my breath, frozen as he gazed back at me. It felt like an eternity, but I knew logically it was only a few seconds. Finally, he turned and went inside without another word. I was left alone, that vibrant warmth leaving me so that I felt suddenly cold.

I stood there quietly, staring ahead, not really seeing anything. I blinked slowly and then let my eyes lift upward, staring up into the darkness of the sky. There were no tears now. I had gone from feeling so much that now I was empty, devoid of feeling anything. No, that wasn’t true. I had felt my first heartbreak. And that shit hurt like hell.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS. PRESENT DAY

“So, not to be rude or anything,” I said, picking my words carefully. “But you, well did you know I was the one who was calling, right?”

“Yes,” T’Challa said and there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “I was surprised to see you had applied. Amina spoke highly of your interview and seems to believe that you would be a good fit.”

 

“Oh,” I said. “Well, I’m glad to hear that?”

 

I winced, hating how awkward I was feeling.

 

“So, is this another interview?” I asked, trying again. “I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

 

“In a sort,” he replied. “I just wish to have a conversation, mostly.”

 

I blinked and shifted to a cross legged position, still leaning back against my headboard. He didn’t sound angry or annoyed. Just neutral.

 

“A conversation?” I asked and he hummed in acknowledgment. “About what?”

 

“Why you wish to come to Wakanda,” he said and I blinked.

 

“But, didn’t that get covered in the interview?” I asked.

 

“Yes,” he agreed. “But now I wish to hear it. Our candidates have been narrowed down and with only two spots it is very selective. I truly wish for this program to succeed, but I also have a duty to my people. To allow outsiders into Wakanda, I want to be assured firsthand that you are the right person.”

 

I pressed my fingers into my thigh, staring straight ahead at my closet door. I couldn’t get a read on him over the phone. Had he gotten over it? Sure, he remembered my name, but that doesn’t mean that he’d still be hung up on what had happened.

  
Right now, he was a King, asking an outsider why he should let them come to his country. Why he should go against tradition and take the risk of allowing me to explore the resources that his home had to offer.

 

My throat felt tight, but I shook it off. Silver lining is that if he didn’t remember, then he couldn't be mad.  Which means, maybe I’d still have a shot.

 

“Is this a ‘can I trust you’ question?” I asked.

 

“Yes, in a sense,” he agreed. “Strong credentials are one thing, but we must ensure that there are no adverse motivations. We have eliminated some who merely wish to gain access to Wakanda and have no real interest in the actual program.”

 

Ah. The summer program was an opportunity to be immersed in the Wakandan culture and get a glimpse at likely the best education on the planet. As brief as this program may be, of course there would be people who would likely come for reasons other than the cultural experience.

 

“Wouldn’t that be better to do in person?” I asked him. “I mean, you’ve always been good at reading people. Why would you do phone interviews if this was so important?”

 

“Yes, that’s true,” he said. “I do conduct in person interviews.”

  
He gave no other explanation and I blinked before furrowing my brows.

 

“Oh, you were too busy then this time?” I asked. Internally, I wasn’t sure if I was relieved with that or not.

 

“No,” he replied. “I am currently in America, although I am in California. I could have made it to you, but I believe this is the best way.”

 

The words had my heart clenching. He didn’t want to see me. Maybe he did remember. I had pushed a lot of anger and hurt into him and it had likely morphed to resentment. That’s how emotions work sometimes. You begin to associate people with how they make you feel, and the last time he had seen me….

 

I had told my grandmother about what happened between us. I had thought she would understand, but her reaction has surprised me. 

 

_“I’m disappointed in you. You took that man’s chance away when you did that to him,” she said._

_She had been cooking at the time and I watched as she neatly sliced some tomatoes before moving them onto a clean plate._

_“The problem is that you never got a chance for him to decide how he felt on his own. All you could see was your own pain and fear and you pushed all that into him. And child, I understand that about you. I understood that when your mama called me saying she couldn’t keep you, saying something wasn’t letting her get close to you.”_

_She had wiped down her knife with a shake of her head._

_“Whenever you’ve felt afraid Jenna,” she said. “You have always tried to protect yourself. That’s understandable.”_

_I swallowed at the saddened expression in her eyes._

_“But I thought I taught you better than to put that fear onto someone else. I thought I taught you that it’s never pain you want to give to someone.”_

_The lines in her face had eased as she smiled at me gently._

_“It’s love, baby. If there’s one thing you ever try and give to someone, it’s love. And remember this. If you make a mistake, you learn on it and then you let it go. But if you get the opportunity to fix it, that’s what you need to do.”_

But that was harder than I’d thought it be.

 

“Are you angry with me?” I asked softly.

 

I had fucked up big time with T’Challa. It took me time to reflect on that. I had taken my own insecurities and half-truths and ran with it.

“Angry?” he asked, and curiosity slipped into his neutral tone. “Why would I be angry with you?”

 

“Well,” I started carefully. “The last time we spoke wasn’t exactly…”

 

Did I really want to drag up the past? But if I didn’t, how could I really move forward? And when would I ever get this chance again?

 

The last thought drove my decision.

 

“I didn’t handle our last conversation maturely,” I said.  “I was upset, and I took it out on you instead of talking to you. And I…well, I said some things that I didn’t really mean”

 

He didn’t say anything, and I pressed on before I lost my nerve.

 

 “And, I guess, I’ve had a lot of time to think about it and I know it’s been a long time and everything….but I did want to say that I’m….”

 

The apology got caught in my throat I dropped my head, pressing my knuckles to my forehead. It had the phone tilting up, so I wasn’t blowing out my air in frustration into the speaker.

 

_Just say you’re sorry so you can move on. Even if you don’t get in, at least you can say you finally got to apologize to him._

I let out another breath and brought the phone back to my face.

 

“I’m sorry,” I said. “What I did wasn’t fair and I’m sorry that’s how our relationship ended.” 

 

There was a pause on the phone and I worried my bottom lip. Shit, would I have to explain?

 

“Your Majesty?” I asked softly, after another moment passed. I was too nervous to call him by anything other than his actual title.

 

 Maybe he hadn’t wanted to hear my apology. Maybe he was still angry.

 

“I am still here,” he said and there was something in his voice now, but I couldn’t tell what it was. That was my fault for relying on my powers too much to tell me how people felt. I think I was losing my natural ear for it.

 

Shit, what if he _had_ forgotten the whole thing? And I had unintentionally brought it all back up for him?

 

“So, we were friends then,” he said suddenly. “You never did answer that question.”

 

I blinked, startled.

 

“What?” I asked.

 

“I had asked you, at the time, whether what we had meant something,” he explained calmly. “You told me it didn’t at first. Then you didn’t answer me when I asked you again.”

 

I blinked and switched the phone to my other ear. My heart was beating so loudly I could hear it in my ears and my body was tense, the muscles tight. That’s right. I had told him we weren’t really friends. Then he had kissed me.

 

But I sure as hell wasn’t bringing that up.

 

“If you…if you don’t want to accept my apology, I understand,” I said, the words seeming to tumble out now. “I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry and… and if you don’t want to consider me for the program, I understand.”

 

T’Challa didn’t answer right away and I pressed my fingers against my temples. I hated this…hated how he was dragging this out. I had thought he wouldn’t be vengeful, but maybe this was the payback. I guess I kind of deserved it.

 

“Your Majesty…”

 

“T’Challa.”

 

I paused at the interruption, noting the lighter tone of his voice.

 

“What?” I asked, my brows furrowed.

 

“Call me T’Challa. Although I still remember fondly how you would call me ‘T’. Yes, I think I’d prefer that.”

 

“Huh?”

 

I hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but I knew I did when he chuckled.

 

“You keep calling me ‘Your Majesty’,” he explained. “It is…unnatural to hear you speak to me so formally. Call me T’Challa or preferably T.”

 

What the fuck was happening?

  
“Did you just have a stroke?” I asked and then gasped, horrified. Shit, I hadn’t meant to say that! 

 

T’Challa laughed and I didn’t realize until then how much I had missed the sound of his laughter.

 

“There,” he said, and the laughter was still in his voice. “There you are.”

 

I slumped down into the bed, letting myself slide down until I was flat on my back. I had no idea what was going on. Out of all the scenarios I had played out in my head, I had never expected T’Challa to just….

 

“Is all this payback? I mean, you don’t really plan to let me into the program,” I said, staring at my unmoving ceiling fan.

  
“You truly believe that I would do such a thing?” he asked, and I dropped my arm to rest against the bed.

 

“I don't know. I mean I thought I knew you, but people change,” I replied.

 

“Indeed,” he agreed. “But no, this was not a ruse for retaliation.”

 

I bit my lower lip, smiling. I always loved T’Challa’s voice and how he spoke.

 

“You still talk like that huh?” I teased, despite myself. “Ruse for retaliation. That’d make a good t-shirt.”

 

I heard him sigh and I tensed. I _had_ to remember we weren’t cool like that.

 

“Sorry, that was out of line, I shouldn’t have….”

 

“Jenna,” he cut me off. “Why are you so frantic? Any noise I make isn’t an indication that I hold resentment for you.”

 

Well how was I supposed to know that?    


“Well, I’m not sure. I mean you never said you forgive me and I guess I’ve kind of been carrying this around for a while.”

 

It didn’t hurt me to admit that to him. It was the flipside of him not being here. I didn’t have to feel what he felt, which meant if he felt pity or any other distracting emotion, I didn’t have to ride on that.

 

Right now, I was just me, trying to make amends for someone I had once considered a close friend. Maybe the conversation hadn’t been a big deal to him, but it did to me.

 

“Then I forgive you,” he said, and I let out a breath. “Although, I do not believe the fault was only your own.” 

 

I was getting a headache. This was just too fucking confusing. What did he have to apologize about?   
  
“I did not try as hard as I should have, when you avoided me. I thought about coming to find you, but I did not. You asked me to leave you alone, and I told myself I was obeying your wishes.”  

 

I didn’t say anything. Couldn't find anything to say.

 

“But I never forgot about you, Jenna. That night, the conversation, something about it didn’t feel right. I felt as if I had missed something. I allowed myself to become distracted with other matters and for that, I am truly sorry.”

 

“You…how can you…” I was fumbling for words, completely bewildered. “How can you possibly feel bad about…. I mean I didn’t expect….”

 

 “Articulate as always,” he mused, and I pressed my lips together. “Jenna, I am saying that you are not the only one to blame for how things played out.”

 

“Oh,” I said. I was normally better at speaking than this. “Well, I forgive you too?”

 

He laughed at the uncertainty in my voice. I found myself smiling.

 

“So, we’re good then? Like, we can, kind of reset?” I asked and didn’t bother to hide the hope in my voice.

 

The thought of being friends with T’Challa again? God, that would be more than I could ever ask.

 

“I would like that,” he said, and I could hear it in his voice too. That he let it show through told me he meant it.

 

I felt tears well up in my eyes. They spilled out and I threw an arm over my forehead. This was a dream, it had to be.

 

“Are you crying?” he asked.  

 

“I'm not,” I said, my voice trembling. “This is professional phone call. I don’t cry on professional calls.”

 

“Ah,” he said and there was amusement in his voice. “Then perhaps I have bad reception here.”

 

I let out a breath and wiped at my cheeks.

 

“Where are you in California?” I asked and shifted to grab a pillow.

 

“Oakland. I was checking in on the Centers here and visiting with my cousin and his girlfriend.”

 

I hummed and rolled to my stomach, tucking the pillow under my chin.

 

“I didn’t know you had a cousin,” I said and marveled at how easily I could fall back into step with him.

 

“Neither did I, for a time. He is part of why I opened the Centers here,” he remarked.

 

“Oh.”

 

That was interesting. Ever since he had opened Wakanda to the world, there had been a ton of questions I had always wished I could ask him. The T’Challa I knew was different from the T’Challa of today. 

 

“Oh?” he teased. “Is there something you want to ask?”

 

How did he still know me so well? I wanted to, but I couldn’t. Last few moments aside there was still too much between us.

 

“I was just thinking that I never answered your original question,” I said, deflecting. “And I'm sure you’re on a schedule with these phone calls. I don’t want to hold you up.”

 

“I don’t think that’s it,” he said. “And I planned for more time with your interview.”

 

“Why?” I asked, startled. “Did you know what I was going to do?”

 

“No,” he admitted. “But I knew that there was a conversation that was needed between us.”

 

And the headache was back again. Fuck it, let’s just lay this shit out there.

 

“T’Challa, would you quit it with the cryptic shi..stuff,” I amended my words quickly and heard his huff of amusement. “I mean, this is hard enough when I can’t tell what you’re feeling and…”  
  
“What I’m feeling?” he asked, sounding like he leapt on the word. “Why would that matter?”

 

Damn, I wondered if he would bring that up. A part of me had hoped he would likely forget any suspicions he had with me. In hindsight, I realized how careless I had been in using them around him. I think there had been a part of me that hoped he would figure it out without me saying anything.

  
Maybe he had and was still waiting for me to admit there was something special about me.

 

“I meant thinking,” I said, correcting myself. “I just can’t tell what you’re trying to gain from all this. I was thinking I’d be more trouble than it was worth considering the drama of the past. And I’m so happy you’re willing to accept my apology, but it’s kind of awkward isn’t it? That night was liking closing the door on three years of friendship.”

 

“Was that your aim?” he asked. “To end all ties between us?”

 

His voice had gone neutral again and I just couldn’t get what was going on with him. 

 

“Isn’t that what happened?” I insisted. “Regardless of what we could have done, we weren’t friends anymore. We don’t owe each other anything and I don’t expect anything from you. Especially not with this program. In fact, I didn’t even apply for it. My friend did.”

 

“But you pursued it anyway,” he said. “There was ample opportunity to back out.”

 

“I know,” I said and sighed. “But I’ve kind of….”

 

I was going to say a slump in my life, but I didn’t want to use those words.

 

“I wasn’t doing what I wanted with my life,” I said instead. “And I figured that if it went through neutral channels that it wouldn’t be a problem. I didn’t know you knew the whole time.”

 

“Even though I knew, I stayed out of those initial stages. I left it to those like Amina, people I trusted, to handle it.”

 

I didn’t say anything for a moment, thinking about that.

 

“Well what now?” I asked softly. “You get the final say on whether I go, right?”

 

“Do you want to come?” he asked.

 

Of course I did.

 

“I don’t know,” I said instead and rolled over again. I rubbed lightly at my chest. “I want to go because I’m good enough to go. Not because you want me to.”

 

T’Challa didn’t say anything and I let out another breath.

 

“I just…I don’t want it to be a thing that I got in because I know you.”

 

“So you would turn it down if I say I wanted you to come?” he asked and there was a hint of exasperation in his voice.

 

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.

 

“But if I said I did not want you to come then you would want to?”

 

“I mean if you said you didn’t want me to come, then I couldn’t come. And the whole point is that I want to come because I want to do it for me. But if you said you wanted me to come, then it’d be like I was doing it for you. Or at least, the only reason I got to come was because of you. Not me.”

 

T’Challa muttered something in Xhosa and I felt myself smile. I hadn’t practiced and had lost my tongue for the language. He’d be disappointed.

 

“I’m sorry, I just. This is happening so quickly and I guess….”

 

I was getting nervous again. My old habits were creeping up and the closer I got to seeing him, the more I was chickening out.

 

“Could we possibly follow up, maybe? I mean, how soon do you have to make your decision?”

 

“There are a few more days before I leave for Wakanda,” he said, and I heard him sigh. “I plan to return to the council with my decision.”

 

“Oh,” I said. “Well, I mean. Do you what you feel is best, you know? You were always good at that.”

 

I winced, realizing how that sounded.

 

“I didn’t mean…”

 

“It is fine, Jenna,” he said. “I knew what you meant.”

 

We grew silent and I wondered why I had let it go wrong again. He wasn’t even around for me to sense his emotions and I had still managed to screw this up. I was grateful that I had finally gotten this weight off my chest. But I was still realizing that it had only been one part of why I had held onto the thought of him for so long.

 

How I felt wasn’t something I could say though. Not now, at least. Maybe not ever, with the way things were going.

 

 _At least he said he forgives you. Hell, he even apologized_.

 

“I am sorry about what happened. Before,” I said finally. “And, whatever you decide, I hope that there’s no more hard feelings between us.”

 

“No,” he murmured. “No hard feelings.”

 

I smiled, relieved. Whatever T’Challa decided, I could live with that, at least.

 

 ___________________

****

Nina sat on one of the steps, her head propped in her hands as she watched me blast another energy ball.

“I think you should call him back,” she said, watching the resulting explosion.

“It’s only been two days,” I said, letting an energy ball grow in my hands. “He’s still got to go back and then talk to his council and all that.”

She eyed me, obviously picking up on my mild tone.

The phone call had ended when I made a weak excuse to check on my grandmother. She was sick, I claimed and maybe it’d be best if I didn’t go to the program at all. He had sounded disappointed and a bit frustrated. It was a stupid fucking lie and a coward’s move. And I still hadn’t brought myself to tell Nina yet.

No, I couldn’t tell her I had damned near backed out because I was reverting back to my old habit of fearing rejection. Not from him.

I threw the ball and one of the barrels exploded into metal pieces. I threw up a shield around Nina with a flick of my hand and she didn’t flinch as the debris littered around her.

I had come up to this area every day since the call, letting out my frustrations with myself and my life onto the broken-down building around me. Nina decided to come with me today but had remained mostly a silent observer. She had claimed I was being a rude host by leaving her alone all the time. She loved my grandmother, but there was only so much that could entertain her at the home.

I stood, breathing heavily and returned her gaze with a look of my own.

“What?” I demanded and she raised a brow.

“You backed out, didn’t you?”

I said nothing and built the next ball in my hands again and simply stared down at the energy as it crackled around the sphere.

“I don’t know why,” she muttered. “It sounded like you got that closure you were looking for.” 

I didn’t say anything, watching the orb pulse in my hand.

“So, it must be something else,” she continued, trying to press me. “If it wasn’t closure you wanted, then what were you looking for?”

The heat was warm in my palm and flared as my fingers twitched.

“And if you’re looking for something else,” she said, watching me. “Going would probably give you the chance of getting it, wouldn’t it?”

The ball grew larger and energy licked across my skin.

 

“I mean what are you going to do now? Just keeping working at the store?”

 

My hands were shaking, my frustration beginning to overwhelm me.

 

“You could have just told him the truth.”

 

_I’d love to come, T’Challa. But you see, I’m still in love with you. And as nice as you were on the phone, I can’t rely on our relationship to build my future. Because, as you know, we tend to not stick together too long._

 

I threw the ball and a loud crack echoed as it blasted against a side wall. Dirt and rubble exploded and only then did Nina duck her head, even as I threw another shield around her. When the dust settled, I turned to look at her.

 

“I know that,” I said quietly. “You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I get how my hang-ups are fucking up my life?”

 

There wasn’t any fear as she looked at me, but I could see she was hesitant.

 

“You don’t think I know I’m screwing up again? That I was afraid I’d see him again and everything I was afraid of would happen all over again?” 

 

I was standing in front of her now and we stared at each other as I willed myself to calm down.

 

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” she said, looking up at me from her spot. “There’s still time. You can just call him back and….”

 

There was something, right on the edges of my senses, moving towards us. No one ever came out here, and yet, I could sense that it was three people that were making their way to us.

 

“I mean you said he was cool with ya’ll being friends again so…”

 

“Nina, hush,” I said softly and she pursed her lips at me.

 

“Don't hush me, I’m…”

 

“There are people here,” I said, interrupting her quickly.

 

As soon as the words left my lips, they stepped from the shadows. It was a clear night, the moon providing light so that we could see them clearly. One man was dressed in a simple black suit and tie and was flanked by two men who were wearing what looked like black combat gear. It was the rifles in their hands that had me stepping in front of Nina.

 

“I apologize for interrupting,” the man in the suit said and took a step forward. “But we have been looking for you Miss Dawson.”

 

“Who are you?” Nina asked and stood up. She sidestepped me slightly and I tapped her arm to keep her from moving forward. She saw the guns and stepped closer to my side.

 

“Quite the display you put on back there,” the man in the suit said, ignoring her question. “Loud enough to wake the neighbors, I’d say.”

 

I should have noticed them approaching sooner. But I had been so upset, so blinded by my own frustration that I hadn’t been paying attention to anyone coming around.

 

“She asked you a question,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Who are you?”

  
He smiled then, but it was a closed-lipped smile. He smoothed his hands down the lapel of his suit jacket before tucking his hands into his pockets. I couldn’t sense any nervousness to him, just a sense of anticipation.

 

“You can just call Mr. Fields. And these are my companions, Mr. Emer and Mr. Jameson.”

 

Both men were big, like they were professional bodybuilders or something. Emer smirked at us, but Jameson’s face was blank, green eyes glaring at me when I met his gaze.

 

“Right,” I said, returning my gaze to Fields. “How do you know my name?”

 

It was making my skin crawl the way he was looking at me. He was tall and stocky, his blonde hair slicked back from the rest of his face.

 

“We keep track of special individuals and well, when we continued to detect energy anomalies in this area, we had to check them out.”

 

Shit. Shit.

I kept my face blank and Nina didn’t react. We had always talked about what we’d do if I ever got caught. The simplest plan had just been to play dumb.

 

“Did a bit of research. You have a familiar pattern coming out here did you know that?”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said and kept my posture relaxed.

 

“Oh come now,” he said, smirking slightly. “There’s no point in lying about it. What are you doing here now?”

 

I didn't say anything, and Nina fidgeted next to me. I could feel her nervous energy. The guy in front of me was calm. He felt he had the situation under control. I didn’t bother picking up what the other two were feeling.

“Now, I must admit I’m at a disadvantage,” Fields continued, and his tone was friendly. “Aside from the…fireworks over there, what exactly are the extent of your powers?”

 

He glanced over to where my last blast had collapsed a part of the wall and shook his head.

 

“I suppose fireworks is a bit of an understatement,” he mused.

 

“What do you want?” Nina demanded, glaring at him.

 

He finally looked at her and there was a coldness to his eyes.

 

“We are from the FBI,” he said and returned his gaze to me. “And we’d like you to come with us, Miss Dawson.”

 

Bullshit. I didn’t know much, but the FBI were a lot straightforward than this, at least from what I’ve seen in movies. They’d more likely come to my house then track me down in an abandoned part of town. Right?

 

“Come on, dude,” I said, eying him. “You can do better than the FBI.”

 

I flexed my fingers and he smiled.

 

“Where’s your badge?” Nina pointed out and he spared her another quick glance. “Aren’t agents supposed to have badges?”

 

I could feel his annoyance with her and he quirked two fingers forward. Emer and Jefferson stepped forward, but kept their guns aimed at the ground.

 

“Now,” Fields said, that smile still on his face. “There’s no need for force, so it’s best if you…”

 

“Come quietly?” I asked dryly. “Yeah, try picking more original lines. And now I have to say ‘I’m not going with you.’”

 

 I flexed my fingers again and shifted my stance. Nina took a step back behind me. She knew if I threw a shield up, it’d be easier for us both if she was close to me.

 

“Or you’ll never take me alive,” Nina pointed out. “That’s a good one.”

 

I started curling the energy towards me, pulling it towards my center so I could push it out as quickly as possible. Nina’s attempt to help distract them was welcomed.

 

“Yeah, but that’s just speaking bad energy into existence, right?” I mused.

 

I held that ball of energy inside me, watching as Emer and Jameson continued approaching us with cautious steps.

 

“Good point.”

  
The smile from Fields’ face had fallen and he was glaring at us. He obviously didn’t find our exchange funny.

I had always had the element of surprise when I stepped in to help someone. Guns didn’t scare me, but I was more concerned about Nina. If they got her from me, she wouldn’t have my defense. I needed to do this quick. We had practiced this a few times and Nina knew what to do. She pressed close to my back, her hand curling in my jacket.

I waited until Jameson and Emer were nearly in front of me before I threw up my shield. It wrapped around Nina and I, then I pushed out the pulsing energy so that it threw the men away from us. 

When they went flying, I grabbed Nina’s hand and took off running.

______________

 

There was a path that led from the building to my car and a quick jog could get us there in no time. I saw a black SUV parked behind my car and immediately fished out my keys from jean pockets as we kept running.

My heart was pounding in my ears, the adrenaline urging me forward as I kept my firm grip on Nina’s hand. The gravel crunched beneath our feet as we ran, with only the moonlight making our path visible.

I didn’t want to waste time fighting them. The gear, the rifles, all of it showed me they had come prepared to get me. And I couldn’t risk Nina getting hurt.

A sudden gunshot rang out and we both pushed ourselves to go faster, legs pumping as the car came closer. I didn’t know how to keep the shield up without concentrating and my only focus was to just make it to the car.

Another shot rang out and I felt pain blossom in my back. I let out a cry and it was Nina’s hand that kept me from falling. I stumbled and she held onto me, shifting her grip to my upper arm.

“Shit, Jenna, hang on, we’re almost there.”

She sounded breathless and I could hear the panic in her voice.

“Come on,” she said tugging me. “It’s right there.”

  
I stumbled after her, trying to regain my earlier speed when I heard another shot. This time the pain was in my leg and it caused me to fall forward. Nina wasn’t able to stop me this time and I threw out my hands to catch myself. My head swam, and I felt a numbness spreading through my body. I was breathing heavily and suddenly felt nauseous.

“Jenna,” Nina pleaded. “Get up!”

 

I shook my head, feeling her face swim in my vision. Nina helped me as I struggled to my feet and I could hear the sound of pounding footsteps behind us. I was moving too slow though and she was wasting time trying to drag me along with her.

 

“Go,” I croaked and pushed at her. “Get out of here.”

 

She shook her head and kept stubbornly trying to pull me by my arms. My legs went out and I collapsed to my knees. She followed me down and I could see now that a few tears had spilled out. I didn’t have to look behind me to know they had caught up to us.

 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and she squeezed my hand. 

  
This was all my fault.

 

“It’s tougher than it looks,” a voice said behind us. “Took two tranqs to get it down.”

  
_It?_

 

I had slumped against Nina, feeling the numbness spread through my body. It was hard to focus but I willed myself to stay conscious. When I tilted my head to look at them, Fields was adjusting his cuff links as he gazed down at me.

 

“This was all unnecessary,” he sighed. “We’re running behind schedule.”

 

Jameson grunted and stepped towards us. Nina slid her arms around my shoulders and hugged me to her defiantly. He stopped and rolled his eyes before glancing over his shoulder.

 

“Emer, grab it’s friend,” he said and Emmert grinned.

 

 _These motherfuckers are calling me an it?_  

 

Emmert had to wrench Nina away from me, who alternated with hitting him with one hand and clinging to me with her other. When he finally managed to drag her away, I fell forward, and no one moved to catch me. My body wasn’t responding how I wanted it to and found myself inhaling dirt.

 

_Get up! Just get up!_

I tried moving a body part, but nothing was responding. I shifted my attempts to see if I could draw on my well of energy, but something cool slid around my neck and clicked shut. Spikes dug into my neck and I let out a weak cough.

Suddenly, I felt empty. The spark of my powers were gone, and I couldn't feel anyone or anything. Someone rolled me over with a booted foot and I found myself staring up at Jameson, with Fields coming to stand next beside him. I wanted to be afraid. But I was too numb from feeling nothing. It had never occurred to me how tightly tied my emotions were to my powers. It wasn’t just a matter of cutting me off from others, the collar had cut me off from myself.

“I’m not..” I said, the words coming out slurred. “Not an ‘it’.”

Fields squatted down and cocked his head, a sardonic smile on his lips.

“You think you’re a person?” he retorted back.

My muscles were struggling to obey me and it took me a few tries to force out the next words.

“What else would I be?”

Fields shrugged, that same fucking smile on his face.

“A defect in the human gene,” he said simply. “Having powers doesn’t mean a damn thing, except that it gives you use.”

My muscles spasmed and I tried to move.

“Fuck you,” Nina hissed and he glanced at her. “She’s a person, you sick bastard.”

 

He chuckled and shook his head.

 

 “It may think like us and act like us, but it’s not. The danger is that it thinks it is.”

 

“Stop calling me that,” I bit out, but he ignored me. I managed to twitch my hands slightly. But there was no spark, no heat of my power.

 

“Without that collar it may think it’s human,” he said and straightened to a standing position. He smoothed out his jacket as he looked down at me. “But how does it feel? Empty? Useless? That’s it’s true nature. It’s just a shell of what a human should be. All those things out there with powers, with ideas that they’re better than us humans, it’s just a cover. They know they’re nothing more than mistakes.”

 

I was trembling now, the urge growing stronger and he grinned at me. He was right. I felt numb to everything, could only sense the urge to harm but couldn’t comprehend the reason why. It was like I was a caged animal and he kept prodding me until I snapped.

 

“See?” he said, studying me. “Closer to a trained monkey than a person.”

 

I tried to do something, but all I could do was glare up at him and struggle to stay awake.

 

 _I am a person_.

 

It took me a second to realize that I couldn’t say the words out loud. My jaw was locked up and my body had gone completely numb. All I could feel was the pounding of my heart. There was no fear, no anger, nothing. 

 

“Grab it and let’s go,” Fields said to Jameson. “We’ll figure out what to do with it’s friend later.”

 

_I’m a person, dammit._

 

I couldn’t feel anything, but that was one thing I did know.

_____________

 

Jameson slung me over his shoulder and began carrying me to the SUV. I stared blankly at the road as he walked, wondering if I could force myself to throw up on him. Bouncing on his shoulder, I was starting to feel nauseous again. I couldn’t see Nina, but I could hear her curses and knew she was likely struggling against Emer’s hold.

We hadn’t been too far from the parked vehicles and I lamented that if we had just a few more moments, we might have made it.

I heard a car door open before I was roughly tossed inside. Jameson rolled me over and yanked me up, positioning me so he could buckle me in. I eyed him and he just smirked back at me.

Jameson lifted his hand and I saw my keys dangling from his fingers. He tossed them to Emer, who caught them with one hand and held onto to Nina with the other.

 

“Follow behind with her,” Jameson said. “We can dump the car later.”

I should be afraid right now. The look on Nina’s face was fear but I couldn’t respond to it. Fields got into the car from the other side and buckled himself in. I watched Jameson move to the front of the car and wondered if I’d see my grandmother again.

Nina started fighting Emer again, but one hard slap dazed her. The sight should have angered me, I think. Instead, I watched as he shoved her into the backseat with a mutter. Just as he slammed the car door, a sudden thump on the top of the SUV had both Emer and Jameson looking up.

A look of shock crossed their faces before they raised their guns. Before they even pulled the trigger, a figure leapt onto Jameson and with a shout he fell backwards with it and out of view.

“Shit,” Emer said, trying to quickly shift his gun down, but the figure slammed into him and he flew into the back of my car. I noted mildly that there was a dent on the bumper now.

 

The figure straightened and approached the SUV and Fields grabbed my arm and yanked me towards him. He pressed the barrel of the gun to my temple and there was a line of sweat on his forehead. The figure opened my car door and I could see clearly that it was a man wearing a black stealth suit, sharp claws extended. His face was covered in a mask and a silver, toothed necklace was around his neck.

Were those cat ears?

I glanced out the front windshield to see that Nina was peeking through the rear window of my car. She looked almost hopeful as she stared at us.

“I have no fucking idea why you’re here,” Fields said and there was a tremor to his voice. “This has nothing to do with you, but I will kill it if you try anything.”

I was still struggling to keep conscious, let alone feel concern that I had a gun pressed to my head and couldn’t do anything about it.

“No,” an accented, feminine voice said coolly. “You will not. Release her.”

It was silly, but for a split second, I think I might have felt relief to hear someone calling me something other than ‘it.’

I couldn’t see the woman, frozen as I was in my current position, but I heard the sharp intake of breath that Fields made.

 “Release her,” she commanded again. “I will not repeat myself.” 

He hesitated and then he pulled his hands off me. Without his support, I slumped against the seat.

“Out of the car,” she commanded.

I heard the sound of shuffling feet and my eyes began to droop. Was this a good time to pass out? Had danger passed?

“What shall we do with them, kumkani?” the woman asked. “I was not aware we were on a rescue mission.”

Kumkani.

I knew that word. It had been one of the words I had learned before and I knew it meant ‘King.’ I hadn’t forgotten that one.

My eyes struggled to stay open as I stared at the man in front of me. He had been silent during the exchange, but now his mask dissolved, exposing his face. I felt my breath hitch at the sight of his handsome face, those familiar brown eyes gazing back at me.

I couldn’t speak but felt the strongest emotion I could conjure since they put this damn collar on me.

“Hello, Jenna,” T’Challa said and gave me that crooked smile. “It is good to see you again.”

It was a welcoming sight. And my brain decided, that yes, this was the proper time to finally pass out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

****

_Nothing._

_Utter stillness, no feelings, no sensations, nothing._

_Then pain, sharp and stabbing, clawing and suffocating._

_No escape from the darkness or the pain._

_Fear. Overwhelming and the first emotion, the first feeling._

_The fear and the pain mix and there is agony._

_Then, a light warmth that reaches out._

_I reach for it, clinging to it desperately, trying to help escape the pain, the fear, the darkness._

_A flicker of surprise and then the warmth welcomes me, draws me in. It is coaxing, soothing, healing. The pain subsides and the warmth grows to a vibrant force, pushing away the fear._

_I sink into it, let it wrap around me and finally, finally, there is darkness, but it is no longer empty._

_Sleep._

__________

Soreness is the sensation that wakes me. There’s a tightness along my shoulders and the back of my neck and it’s leading to a headache that sleep won’t cure. The memories of last night start creeping in and I let out a shuddering breath and tighten my hands in blanket that I’m tucked under.

_Wait._

This isn’t my bed. And I’m not alone.  

A muscular arm is thrown across my waist, a broad chest breathing steadily behind me. I can’t tell if they’re a quiet sleeper or if they’re awake. My other senses aren’t working as well as they should and it’s making the headache worse trying to reach out to sense them.

I’m fully clothed, still wearing my jeans and t-shirt, though my jacket and shoes are removed. There is gentle light filtering through a window, letting me know that the sun is starting to rise.

My eyes drift over the arm on my waist, following along the sinews of his upper arm and down to the hand. The long fingers are curled loosely near my own, though not quite touching.

 _T’Challa_.

I stare at the hand, knowing without looking, that he is the one who is tucked in behind me. His breath fans lightly along the back of my neck, sending small tingles down my spine and making me swallow.

I try to keep still, hoping that I didn’t wake him, while my brain tries to scramble around for some memories that would help me understand why the fuck I was in bed with T’Challa.

_Bitch, you really complaining?_

I press my lips together and try to ignore the rebellious thought. I also try to ignore how good his body feels pressed against mine or how nice he smells. It’s giving me flashbacks to late study nights and the urge to cover his hand with my own makes my hand twitch.

_Just stay still. I’ll outwait him and then just figure out what’s going on when…_

 “Good morning, Jenna.”

_Damnit._

Letting out a sigh, I roll over and push myself up and his arm shifted off me. I scooted back against the headboard, reaching up a hand to rub against my temples. I decided to ignore him, letting myself take in the bedroom.

_Where the hell am I?_

 The large King-sized bed is centered in the room and accommodates us both comfortably. The rich browns and greens give the bedroom a cozy feel and a large window sits up high and allows natural light to filter down below. The décor is a mix of modern and a hint of African, though I can’t understand the script on some of the pieces.

I let my eyes drift to T’Challa, who’s lying on his side, his head propped up with one hand and watching me. He’s wearing a white, sleeveless tank top and what appears to be black, draw-string pants.  I can see the clear muscles of his arms and note the fullness of his beard. It’s grown out since I had last seen him.

 _Yep. Definitely still fine as fuck_.

“Where are we?” I ask, but the words come out rough.

I wince at the rawness of my throat and let out a small cough. I reach a hand up to rub at my neck, my fingers feel small holes in my neck. T’Challa shifts to sit up and leans over the other side of the bed, reaching for a glass of water that sits on a side table.

“Take these,” he says, slipping two small pills in my hand.

I eye them, squinting at the vibrant blue color and then back at him.

“What are…” the words cut off and I let out another cough.

“They are pain pills,” he said, nodding to my hand. “A formula developed by Wakandan doctors.”

I blink at that. Wakandan Aspirin, huh?

I down the pills, wincing again as they slide along my throat and follow them behind with the water.

“It will take a few moments for them to work,” T’Challa said when he took the glass from me. “And I’m sure you have a few questions.”

“Yeah, where...”

My words cut off with another cough and T’Challa sighed.

“I just told you it would take time to work,” T’Challa said and I scowled at him. “I’m sure I can guess what you want to know. You are in the home of one of our Wardogs, Akua…”

“Why is…”

He watched as I coughed and continued with a small shake of his head.

“We could not leave either of you, nor could we leave the men behind. We could not bring you to our hotel, there would be too many eyes. Your friend, Nina, I believe, was understandably upset about the events of last night. She said that bringing you home, in your current state, would upset your grandmother.”

I thought of my calm grandmother, who had the ability to stay level headed during conflicts. But I had always been her soft spot and in her older years, her worries for me increased. I think Nina made the right call.

I let out another cough but noted that it wasn’t as painful as before. I rubbed at my neck again, my fingers pressing in the small impressions in the skin. T’Challa watched me, a small frown forming.

“The technology they used on that collar was…” he trailed off and shook his head, irritation flaring in his eyes. “It was a delicate process removing it from you and there were some…brief moments where the collar reacted badly.”

He reached a hand up to touch my neck gently.

“I am sorry, Jenna,” he murmured, rubbing lightly at the skin. “I did my best, but it was the technology they used that caused so much trouble. Whoever is crafting these things are rushing and they are only meant to subdue and cause pain. In your unconscious state, you reacted instinctively and the use of your powers triggered the collar.”

My eyes widened at that, the memories of pain filtering through my mind.

“I was able to take the brunt of most of your responses,” he continued. “But it did take a while for you to calm down.”

My heart was pounding as revelation of his words hit me.

 “Responses?” I asked, finally finding that I was able to speak without pain. “What do you mean?”

T’Challa studied me for a moment, still gently rubbing at my neck.

“Do you know why they were coming for me?” I tried again.

They were unnecessary questions, but I couldn’t help it. I had spent so much time hiding myself from him and he had learned it all over night. 

He gazed back at me, a finger rubbing gently along the pulse of my neck.

“Do you?” he asked.

He asked the question lightly, obviously aware of what I was trying to get at. I gently tugged his hand from my neck, letting it rest in my lap instead.

“The collar,” he said, “is meant to suppress abilities. Certain governments use it when they bring in mutants or those with enhanced powers.”

The words made me swallow and I found myself growing still.

“Ok,” I said.

T’Challa sighed and tapped his fingers against my palm.

“Still stubborn,” he mused. “You haven’t changed in that way it seems.”

Funny, that’s what I had thought of him.

“If you know something,” I said tersely. “Then just say it.”

He regarded me evenly.

“I would prefer if you said it yourself, Jenna.”

I dropped his hand and drew my knees to my chest. I wrapped my arms around my legs and looked away.

“So you can turn me in?” I asked and swallowed. The pain was gone now, but I was too wrapped up in the current moment to marvel at how quickly the medicine worked.

“What are you talking about?”

The genuine bewilderment in his voice had me looking at him. His brows were furrowed as he stared at me.

“Wakanda is one of the countries that signed the Sokovia Accords,” I said. “And you are the reigning Monarch, the literal government of your country. Isn’t it your duty to turn me in?”

I paused and let out a breath.

“Seeing as I’m a mutant and everything.”

_________________________

It had been a while since I had seen T’Challa and the sense of peace I got from being in his presence was something that I missed.

But one other thing that also hadn’t changed about him was that when he was angered or annoyed, he’d slip into this calm mask. Most of the time, it meant he’d ignore me until he had calmed down. After my curt confession and accusal, T’Challa had given me an unreadable look and went to the bathroom without a word.

I had the sense that I had offended him in some way and felt the slight gnawing of guilt at the thought. He had saved my life and I had flipped it around and said he’d only done it to turn me in to someone else.

I hadn’t been around T’Challa in a while, but deep down, I knew he wasn’t that type of man.

_I’m always going to fuck things up between us, I guess._

I listened to the sound of the shower absently, still leaning against the headboard in the guest bedroom. I had dropped my legs and rubbed my fingers against the soft material of the comforter. I didn’t have my phone, so I had no idea what time it was. And I wasn’t really feeling up to exploring the house on my own.

I thought about stretching out to see if I could sense if anyone else was in the building, or if I could sense whether was Nina was here. But I still felt a type of rawness in my mind and decided to mentally put up my shields instead.

I closed my eyes and centered myself by focusing on my core. I drew on the energy there and pulled it up and let it spread along my nerves, soothing against the raw spots of my psyche. It reminded me of the emptiness of fear and pain that I had felt before. Feeling nothing, and yet knowing you are feeling nothing – it was one of the most unsettling experiences I had in my life.

My hands flexed over my knees and I continued to spread my energy, filling in those spots, and then wrapping around me. Suddenly, the familiar warm energy brushed against me, startling me. I immediately pulled away and was shocked when I felt it reach out, following me through the opening I still had open. It filled me, spreading up to be a soothing warmth in my heart.  It was like a balm against my frayed nerves, a comfort to the stress and pain and fear from the last few hours.

My eyes flew open, spotting T’Challa watching me, his eyes meeting my gaze evenly. With the light from the bathroom, I was able to take him in more fully. He was dressed casually, a black light knit sweater that clung to his muscular torso and dark jeans and designer shoes. A silver toothed necklace was around his neck and it made me think of the suit he was wearing last night.

“It was you,” I said softly, feeling that warmth recede from me slightly. “Last night I… I felt you.”

He moved towards me and sat on the bed next to me, angling himself so he could study my face.

“I had always thought there was a strong self-awareness about you,” he said, studying me. “You always seemed connect with people one another level and yet, when it came to you, I’d see you retreat within yourself. I had always found it frustrating, know there was something about you that I just couldn’t reach, at least not yet.”

I stared at him, not quite sure what to say.

“I had my suspicions for a while,” he said, then shook his head slightly. “No, more like theories, but there was nothing that I could do with them. I had my own secrets that I had to keep, so who I was I to demand yours?”

“Something about sharing a load, when you can’t or something?” I asked.

He quirked his lips lightly and nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “Though there were times I was tempted, I respected that it was something you had to tell me on your own.”  

The warmth stroked against me again and I gasped.

“How are you doing that?” I demanded, staring at him. “You’ve always…you’ve never done that before.”

T’Challa shrugged slightly.

“I had not gotten far in my spiritual lessons then. Though I could sense you, I could never reciprocate. It was not until I returned from Oxford that I completed the rest of my training.” 

He chuckled at the confused expression on my face.

“So much has happened since I’ve last seen you, entle. There will be more time to talk later.”

I noted the familiar nickname and felt my face heat. Still, there was something that was bothering me.

“I’m sorry,” I said and he inclined his head. “About…about insinuating that you would…”

I let out a breath and smoothed my hands across my jeans.

“I know you wouldn’t turn me in,” I said, staring down at my hands. “I’ve just…I’ve always wanted to tell you…and Nakia. And I was afraid of how you two would react and…. this is a secret I’ve carried around for a long time. And we’re not…we aren’t what we used to be and you have a duty to….”

“Jenna.”

I looked up at him and he reached a hand to cover mine.

“I was…hurt by what you said, but I understand your fears. I keep forgetting in my eagerness that you have much at stake.”

_Eagerness? For what?_

T’Challa squeezed my hand lightly.

“But I want you to understand this, if nothing else,” he said, his eyes holding mine. “You never have any need to feel unsafe when you are with me. I give you my word.”

I blinked at the sincerity in his words but found myself nodding. I was confused, sore, tired and was still wary about what had happened.

Yet despite all of that, for better or worse, I believed T’Challa. He had always been a man of his word.

_______________

“Jenna!”

I glanced up as I began chewing on a forkful of eggs. Nina rushed into the dining room, her curls pulled up into a loose bun on her head, her face devoid of makeup. She was still wearing her clothes from the night before and barely spared a glance to T’Challa as she rushed towards me.

I had just managed to swallow my bite before she reached me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. She buried her face in my neck and gave me a squeeze.

“You’re ok? Oh thank god, I was so worried!”

“Mhmhm,” I mumbled and patted her hand. “Ease up, ok? You’re going to make me choke.”

Nina pulled away and settled down in the open seat next to me. Her eyes swept over my face and across my neck, her anxious energy radiating off of her.

T’Challa sat on my other side, sipping lightly on a coffee as he watched us. He had led me downstairs to the open spaced dining room, where Akua had apparently taken it upon himself to cook up a breakfast spread. The table had been littered with bowls of fresh fruit, eggs, bacon, sausage, toast and a few preserves. I glanced over to the kitchen, lightly noting the foreign music playing from his radio as he cooked up a plate of pancakes. They would be, he claimed, the best pancakes I would ever taste. 

“You are good though, right?”

I glanced back at Nina, who was still looking at me closely. I nodded and turned back to my meal, eagerly digging into my full plate. The scents of breakfast had reminded me how hungry I was and I was currently making my way threw my second plate.

“Damn,” Nina said, eying me. “How much have you eaten?”

 I shot her a look, before reaching for my glass of water. I flipped her off as I took a drink. She rolled her eyes.

“Does it have something to do with your abilities?” T’Challa asked.

He had watched me work through my food but had wisely kept his mouth shut. But Nina’s comment must have spurred his curiosity. Or at least willingness to vocalize it.

“When she uses her powers a lot,” Nina said as she began fixing her own plate. “She has to eat a lot to consume it. I once saw her go through one of her training sessions and when she didn’t eat enough in time, she passed out.”

“Interesting,” he mused, studying me.

“Yeah,” Nina said, smoothing toast on her butter. “I guess the upside is that she’s got an amazing metabolism. Sis barely needs to hit the gym to keep her figure, don’t you think? Ow!”

Nina glared at me as she leaned over to rub her ankle. I glared back at her and dropped my fork onto my plate.

“She’s partially right,” I said, turning to T’Challa. “I’ve always got an energy store, but the more I use it up, the more tired or fatigued I get.”

“Energy store?” he questioned, lowering his mug. “What do you mean?”

I had always wanted to talk to him about this. T’Challa was a genius and I knew he had knowledge of a wide range of subjects under his belt. Who else would help me learn about my powers better?

“Yeah,” I said and popped a grape into my mouth. “It’s kind of…like a well inside myself. I don’t know. I want energy, I reach out to it, pull it up and…”

I snapped my fingers, letting my fingertips glow slightly.

“Then bam. I can control how much concentrated energy I want, can control how I disperse it and can redistribute it to make a shield around myself.”

“And unconsciously, apparently,” Nina muttered. “Jenna, I love you, but you scared the shit out of me. I didn’t know you could do it without being awake.”

I looked at her, watching as she bit into her toast.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, my brows furrowing.

She hesitated, glancing at T’Challa and then away again.

“Nothing,” she said softly and waved a hand. “You know I talk too much. Forget it.”

I frowned at her and tapped her lightly with a glowing finger on her leg. She yelped and rubbed it.

“Ow, shit, that hurts!”

“Nina, what are you talking about?” I demanded and she swatted at the raised hand.

“I told you, Jenna,” T’Challa said, drawing my attention to him. “Removing the collar caused a few…responses.”

I stared at him, my brows furrowed. It was a faded memory in my mind, but I couldn’t grasp it.

“Like what?”

“It doesn’t matter…”

“Like what, T’Challa?” I demanded. “Tell me what I did.”

T’Challa gazed at me for a moment before he sighed.

“Attempts to remove the collar trigger an electrical pulse that is meant to pain the wearer,” he said. “The problem was that the wiring was so…”

“Basic,” Nina supplied. “The whole thing looked like some jank shit they threw together.”

“Yes,” T’Challa said, sparing her a glance. “It made it difficult to remove without hurting you at the same time.”

I frowned, tapping my fork against the plate lightly. Nina reached over and tugged it from my hand.

“As the dampners weakened, you were able to utilize your powers more. It was merely a survival response, nothing more.”

“Who did I hurt?” I asked, the words coming out softly.

I had remembered the pain and fear –the two sensations that had come after so much numbing darkness.

Neither of them answered and I clenched my fists. T’Challa’s face was expressionless and I spared Nina a glance. I could sense the worry coming off her and the hesitation, but T’Challa was shielded from me. Another thing I learned he could do now and it irritated the hell out of me.

“Who?”

The only sound was the radio that continued to drift in from the kitchen area and the sound of a spatula scraping against the pan.

“I was the only one who could work on you at the time,” T’Challa said finally. “Nina’s fear was triggering you and it made it a bit more difficult but…”

I was already reaching over, tugging at his sleeves, trying to find any marks that indicated damage. I remembered the sleeveless tank top he wore and I hadn’t been able to see anything on him then.

“I discovered then that I could reach you by your other senses,” he remarked mildly, as I continued tugging at his clothes. “It was the only way to keep you calm after that.”

Nothing. There were no indications of burns or discoloration on his forearms, nothing that showed that I had caused him pain.

But I had.

I could only blame the guilt in the pit of my stomach that caused me to tug up his sweater. There, I could see a mark of discoloration on his upper abdomen, the skin darker against the muscles of his stomach. I let out a shuddering breath and curled my free hand into a fist. I had done that, had lashed out and T’Challa had gotten hurt because of me.

_Oh my god._

“Excuse me.”

The crisp words had us looking up to see that a bald woman had walked into the room. She was beautiful, wearing a leather jacket over a red sweater and jeans. Her eyes locked onto me, flickering down to my hand that was curled in the material of T’Challa’s shirt. They narrowed slightly.

“You will remove your hands from the King,” she said curtly. There was no room for argument to her words.

I felt my face heat and immediately snatched my hands away. I curled my hands into my lap, watching as T’Challa smoothed down his shirt. He didn’t look offended but spared the women a glance. 

“Okoye,” he scolded gently. “There is no need for that.”

Okoye spared me one more side glance before saying something in Xhosa. Her words had T’Challa frowning and he nodded.

“Excuse us,” he said to Nina and I, and we nodded. He removed the napkin from his lap and rose to follow the bald woman out of the room.

Nina nudged me lightly and I looked at her. She leaned towards me with a grin.

“I knew you was thirsty for the nigga,” she said. “But I thought you got your feel last night.”

I knew she was trying to tease me, trying to distract me from my guilt and it was the only reason I could bring myself to roll my eyes at her.

“Shut the fuck up, Nina.” 

 She snickered and turned back to her plate. Sighing, I picked up my empty dishes and made my way to the kitchen.

Akua was a big man, tall and broad, his head clean shaven, but sporting an impressive beard. He wore a simple pair of brown slacks and a white buttoned up shirt, an apron that read “Don’t feed the cook” finishing his look.

“Thanks,” he said as I took my dishes to the sink. “Leave them there. I’ll get to them.”

I stared at him and he quirked a brow at me.

“What?” he questioned, expertly flipping a pancake onto a plate.

“Uh….not to sound rude or anything,” I said. “But, you don’t have an accent. Like, at all.”

Akua chuckled as he moved the pan to another burner and turned off the heat.

“I would hope not,” he said and I heard his accent then. “The point is to sound American, eh?”

I blinked and slipped my hands into my pockets as I leaned against the counter.

“So, Wardogs are what? Spies?”

He shrugged and turned on the faucet, letting the water fill the sink. When he started adding the dishes I realized he wasn’t going to elaborate.

“Ok,” I said, watching him. “So how long have you been here?”

“Ten years,” he remarked and I raised my brows. “This is the first time the King has visited me though. I must admit, I may have gone overboard with the cooking.”

We glanced at the two plates of pancakes and I grinned slightly.

“Yeah, probably,” I said and turned to look back at him. “Do you miss your home?”

Akua scrubbed the plates slowly before setting them on a dish rack.

“Of course,” he said as he kept working. “There is no place on Earth like Wakanda.”

“I bet,” I murmured. “So…what exactly do you do here? I mean, you have to be watching someone, right? Or are you intel gathering? Oh, or are you like a sleeper cell or something?”

Akua gave me an amused look but didn’t answer. I sighed.

And I had thought T’Challa and Nakia were tight lipped back in the day. Apparently Wakandans were just trained that way. Wakanda would always have its secrets, no matter how opened it seemed.

I left Akua and went back to the table, reclaiming my earlier seat. Nina was slowly nibbling through pieces of fruit, staring absently at a painting on the wall.

“Hey.”

She glanced at me, raising her brows slightly as she bit into a piece of pineapple.

“You okay?” I questioned.

She shrugged and took the time to chew the piece. When she had swallowed, she wiped a napkin across her mouth.

“Yeah,” she said. “You?”

The image of T’Challa’s injury flittered through my mind and I slumped into my seat. I rubbed a finger along the edge of the table and shrugged.

“Maybe,” I said softly. “Maybe they weren’t too far off.”

Nina furrowed her brows at me, crossing her arms as she leant against the back of her chair.

“What?” She demanded.

I continued rubbing the smooth edges of the table, feeling a tightness in my chest as I watched my finger move.

“You know, the biggest fear I had about T’Challa finding out about me was that...that he would be afraid of me. I mean the few people who’ve witnessed what I could do, they were all afraid of me. And I couldn’t...it just terrified me that he’d look at me with that type of fear.”

“Jenna...”

I shook my head and continued.   


“I’m not close to a lot of people. You know that. I mean, it’s pretty much just been you and grandma. But...when I met T’Challa and Nakia, I felt a companionship. That I could be around amazing people who would accept me. But I could never bring myself to tell them.”

I took in a ragged breath and pulled my hands into my lap, clenching them into fists.

“Then I hurt him, Nina. I’m supposed to be in better control of my powers. Could you imagine if this had happened all those years ago? I would have never been able to....and now, I don’t know if I can...”

The words got caught in my throat and I swallowed. Nina shifted to face me more directly and reached a hand out to take my own.

“He wasn’t afraid,” she said and I lifted my eyes to meet her. “Concerned, yeah. But never afraid. I...I was afraid. For you and me and I guess you just picked up on it...and it was my fault that...”

I squeezed her hand gently, watching as she dipped her head.

“It’s not your fault, Nina,” I said. “I was reacting to you. Just like an animal, right?”

She lifted her head and glared at me furiously.

“Don’t you ever fucking say that,” she whispered. “Don’t let someone take your humanity away from you. Ever. If it’s not my fault, then neither is it yours.”

I held her gaze, knowing the conviction she felt behind her words. Nina, more a sister than a friend, had seen me at my worst and still wanted to stay by my side. I felt a few tears spill and then huffed and wiped them away. Nina smiled and gave my wrist a gentle squeeze.

“Everything all right?”

T’Challa had stepped back into the room, his gaze flickering between us. I wiped at my cheek and nodded.

“Yeah,” I said. “We’re all good.”

I noticed Okoye had moved into the kitchen and was speaking to Akua in low tones. I couldn’t hear what they were saying over the sound of the radio, but I could guess whatever they were saying wouldn’t be in English anyway.

T’Challa settled into his former seat and I watched him closely. There didn’t appear to be any discomfort when he moved, but I couldn’t help myself.

“How’s your stomach?” I asked. He regarded me for a moment before answering.

 “Fine,” he said. “I am not in pain.”

The words were matter of fact, but I frowned anyway. T’Challa sighed and lifted his shirt again.

The discoloration had ebbed slightly, the skin returning to its normal shade. I blinked in surprise and had to restrain myself from touching him again. How had it improved in mere moments?

“How did you...”

I couldn’t formulate the right question. T’Challa smoothed out his clothes and quirked his lips in a half smile.

“I heal much faster than I used to,” he said simply. “And you did not harm me as much as you think you did.”

“Ok, but I’m still confused,” I said, shaking my head. “What do you mean you heal much faster than you used to?”

“Are you human?”

The question came from Nina and we turned to her. A slight flush rose on her cheeks as T’Challa looked at her and she pursed her lips.

“What?” She demanded. “I think that’s a fair question, what with everything going on nowadays.”

“Yes,” he said, smiling slightly. “I am human.”

She stared at him for a brief second before widening her eyes.

“Oh!” She exclaimed. “Are you like...an enhanced person? Is that why you’re so chill with Jenna?”

She was excited now, had always been excited when she thought she was figuring something out. Which meant she talked too much.

“I mean, Jenna used to say you guys had like...this deep connection or whatever, I wonder if that’s why.”

T’Challa glanced to me, a smirk forming. I felt my face heat and shot Nina a look.

“Nina,” I hissed.

“That’s it!” She gasped, ignoring me. “You are an enhanced person and like...you two could sense each other...but you couldn’t tell her, cause you know, your country is all secret or whatever. But she used to say she could feel you and you were like...some warm, like vibrant....ugh, Jenna what did you say he felt like?”

She looked at me expectantly and I returned it with a glare.

“I don’t remember,” I said carefully. “It was a while ago.”

I felt him, stroking lightly along my senses. It caused a spasm in my belly and my fingers twitched in my lap.  T’Challa was rubbing a hand absently through his beard, his smirk growing.

_Ok, that’s going to take getting used to._

I still had no idea how he had learned to do that. Spiritual training was as vague as most of his answers. But...it did feel good though. Like something soft rubbing against me in all the right places. He was watching me, quietly gauging my reactions, seemingly amused by my annoyance.

“...and that must mean I’m right? Don’t you think, Jenna?”

I blinked, suddenly realizing that Nina had been talking the whole time.

“What?” I asked glancing back at her.

Nina frowned at me, tapping a finger impatiently against her plate.

“I was saying that T’Challa’s has to have like powers or something. That’s why he won’t turn you in. Am I right?”

Nina was looking at T’Challa and he inclined his head at her.

“I had no intentions of turning Jenna in,” he said. “Those this seems to be a concern for you two.”

His tone hinted a bit at irritation and I wondered if he was annoyed that his motives were being questioned.

“Right,” Nina said and I wondered if she picked it up. “Look, we’re just asking cause...well, see, it’s kind of funny cause a few weeks ago we were talking about yo...”

I nudged her leg and she cleared her throat.

“About the Sokovia Accords and how your...ah...”

She trailed off, her mind seemingly catching up with the words were coming out. T’Challa was giving her that mildly neutral look, but he was closed off again. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or amused. Nina shot me a pleading look and I quirked a brow.

_That’s what you get for talking too much._

We stared each other down and finally she leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms.

“What are we...well, I guess Jenna, supposed to do now?” She asked.

“Do?” T’Challa questioned.

Nina and I exchanged a glance.

People coming in the middle of the night to abduct you don’t just go away. Right?

“What happened to those men?” I asked, trying a different tactic. “I mean, you said you didn’t leave them behind. So where are they?”

T’Challa just looked at me and I frowned.

_Uh uh. We are not doing the silent game._

“I kind of feel like I have a right to know,” I pressed. “Considering they attacked me everything.”

He had rested his hand along the table and I noticed a ring adorned on one of his fingers. On his other wrist, he wore a beaded bracelet, each bead carved with an intricate symbol. I tried remembering if had seen him wear those accessories before. The bracelet looked familiar, but not the ring.

“You do not need to concern yourself with them,” T’Challa said, seemingly aware of my inspection. “They will not harm you again.”

I met his gaze and though I didn’t doubt he meant his words, I still had a nagging feeling in the back of my head. I couldn’t get the images of their faces out of my head.

_You think you’re a person?_

And that fucking taunting smile.

“T,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Those men...they....”

His nickname had him looking at me closely. I needed him to understand that this was more than keeping me safe. I needed to know why those men were after me.

“Just give me something,” I said, searching his face. “You can’t ask me to forget about it. I am grateful, truly grateful that you were there to save me...but they threatened me and someone I care about. I’m not about to let that shit go.”

Okoye had come into the dining area and moved to stand behind T’Challa. There were intricate patterns designed along the smooth skin of her head and I wondered if there was any deep meaning to them. Her brown eyes met mine and I returned her gaze evenly, feeling like I was trying to prove something. For a brief second, I thought I saw a flicker of amusement in her eyes, though I couldn’t be sure. She had a good game face, I’d give her that.

“We are holding them in a facility locally.”

T’Challa’s words brought my attention back to him and he inclined his head at me.

“Facility?” I asked. “What facility?”

He just quirked his lips slightly and I sighed.

“Ok,” I said. “Well, what’s going to happen to them?”

“There is,” T’Challa said, seemingly to choose his words carefully. “Negotiations on that right now. They have information that we need and they must be taken to Wakanda to answer for their crimes.”

I blinked at that, my brows furrowing. So it wasn’t just about me then. What had those men done that would have the King himself coming after them?

“Negotiations,” Okoye mused to herself. “Yes, I’m sure Agent Ross would call it that.”

T’Challa spared her an amused look at her dry tone and she shrugged.

“So wait,” I said. “I mean, couldn’t you guys technically take them without saying anything? I mean...how does...I’m just assuming the government knows.”

“I gave my word to an old friend that I will keep him updated on such matters,” T’Challa explained. “Though we always have differing views on jurisdiction.”

“So you told the FBI...”

“CIA,” he corrected lightly.

“Ok, CIA that you have international criminals in custody and they’re okay with it?”

“I did not tell the CIA, I told an old friend.”

“Who’s an agent of the CIA,” I asked.

“Yes.”

“There’s a difference?” I asked, confused.

“Yes,” he said again and I furrowed my brows. I glanced to Okoye and she returned my gaze, giving nothing away.

 “Wouldn’t it just be easier to, I don’t know, do whatever the hell you want? I mean, most governments do it nowadays anyway.”

T’Challa shrugged.

“I gave him my word,” he said simply.

That....that actually checked out.

 “Even so,” Okoye said. “They _will_ eventually be taken to Wakanda for further questioning.”

Her words held a note of finality and I inclined my head at them.

“You guys are getting your way, huh?” I asked. “Even with the American government?”

Okoye raised a brow at that and there was a ghost of a smile on her lips.

“Especially the American government,” she said.

I made a mental note to try really hard to stay off her bad side.

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

“You promised,” I said tersely into my cellphone. “If you found out anything or if anything happened, you promised you would tell me.”

 

I sat in the empty break room at Kevin’s Krafts, and propped my legs on an empty chair next to me. It hadn’t been easy, getting back into the normal routine of things over these last few days, but I was trying.

 

T’Challa had decided that the best thing was to return to my life as if nothing had happened. There was nothing for me to do, he had claimed and he would ensure that no one would come after me or anyone close to me. I had argued with him, or at least argued _at_ him, while he had listened to my complaints quietly, taking my verbal anger while remaining unfazed.

 

I both hated and loved that about him. No.... I mean liked. I liked that about him - his natural adeptness of staying calm while everyone else was losing their shit. It kept me grounded being around him and helped keep me steady. It was the only reason that I had accepted the compromise. I would stay out of trouble and he would keep me updated if anything happened.

  
And I hadn’t heard a word from since he dropped Nina and I off at home. Just vague responses to my texts and evasiveness in phone calls. I was starting to get fed up and it was taking the fun out of the fact that I finally had his number again. No indirect lines or transfers. Nope, I had T’Challa’s personal line and I did my very best to ignore Nina’s teasing that this fact definitely meant something.

 

“I know, Jenna,” T’Challa replied patiently. “And I have been rather busy attending to other matters. I planned on calling you this week.”

 

I pursed my lip, tracing the closed cap of my water bottle with one finger. I wanted to argue more, but he had sounded almost... tired.

 

_He is a King, after all. Probably means he got other shit to deal with._

 

I felt a flicker of guilt. Just because my life was boring and slow moving, didn’t mean that I could take my impatience out on him. I used to be a better friend than this.

 

“I’m sorry, T,” I said. “I know you’re trying. I’m just...anxious, I guess.”

 

“It’s fine, Jenna,” he said. “I understand your concerns. Since I have you, I may as well tell you now. We plan to transfer the men to Wakanda in a day or so. With them there, we will be able to learn more from them. More than we could here.”

 

“Oh,” I said. “Does that mean you’re going back to Wakanda then?”

 

I knew he was still in the States though he hadn’t gotten the time to see me again. We hadn’t even talked about the Wakandan Summer Program since the incident. It almost seemed silly how stressed out about it I had been.

 

“No,” he said and I felt a tremor of relief. “My cousin is in Wakanda and he will handle it.”

 

Lisa, one of my coworkers, walked into the room and headed for the vending machine. She often had the habit of dying her hair different colors once a month, and this time, it was a vibrant, neon green.

 

“I thought your cousin was in Oakland?” I asked T’Challa.

 

“He was,” T’Challa said. “But there was an... incident with his girlfriend. She needed medical treatment and it was better served to take her to Wakanda.”

 

I raised my brows in surprise.

 

“Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is she okay?”

 

I didn’t know who she was, but the dark tone in T’Challa’s voice told me he wasn’t happy about what happened. Which meant he was fond of her at least.

 

“She is recovering well, but...”

 

“Who are you talking to?” A voice interrupted.

 

I glanced up to see Lisa watching me, popping a few chips into her mouth. She was nice enough, but she had always been extremely nosy. We didn’t have many employees here, especially on my late shift, but we all tended to agree that if Lisa was listening, everyone would know your business.

 

“Hang on,” I said to T’Challa and then shifted the phone away slightly. “I’m talking to the King of Wakanda.”

 

Lisa stared at me for a second before pursing her lips.

 

“Whatever, Jenna,” she muttered with a roll of her eyes.

 

“Do you want me to tell him you said hi?” I called as she made her way to the door. “Your Majesty, Lisa says hi.”

  
She flipped me off as she left the room and I snickered.

 

“What was that about?” T’Challa asked, a hint of laughter in her voice.

 

“Nothing,” I said, waving a hand. “This girl doesn’t know how to mind her business. I’m just messing with her.”

 

“But you _are_ talking to me,” T’Challa pointed out. “How is that messing with her?”

 

“You don’t get it, T,” I said and readjusted my position in my seat. “No one would believe her if she told them I was talking to you. But she can’t help herself. Bet money she’ll still say something, even if she doesn’t think it’s true.”

 

There was a pause and then he chuckled.

 

“You have always had an odd sense of humor,” he remarked.

 

“Well,” I sniffed. “I remember you liking my sense of humor.”

 

“I do,” he said lightly. “It’s one of the many things I like about you.” 

 

The bass of his voice caused a tremor to run through me and I bit my lip. He had been doing that every once in a while, saying teasing comments that I couldn’t allow myself to believe was him flirting. We were still friends, still easing our way back into a familiar relationship that we had had before.  

 

“Oh, well, I said, struggling to change the subject. “So I meant to tell you this before but uh... you know what? Never mind, you’re probably too busy anyway and....”

 

“Jenna.”

 

I hesitated, hearing the gentle command in his voice.

 

I don’t know why I was so flustered. It had never been hard for me to talk to men. I had dated, though there was nothing ever serious about any of them. It was hard to let too many people get close, especially considering what I could do. The closest I ever got to a relationship was Jaquim, but he was definitely more a fuck buddy than a real relationship. I absently wondered what T’Challa would think of that and then immediately quashed the thought. I was not going to be the one to bring up past relationships. I hadn’t even been able to mention Nakia yet.

 

“Sorry. Um, I told my grandmother about you, though she thinks it’s about the summer program. I don’t what her to know about what went down. You know?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Right, well anyway, she keeps asking me to ask you if you would, well actually, you and Okoye, cause I may have mentioned her too, but she wants you to come for dinner. Well kind of like ordered you to dinner.”

 

“Ordered?” he asked, the laughter stronger in his voice.

 

“Yeah, ordered,” I replied. “She said, and I quote, ‘if that young man and his friend are still in town, it wouldn’t sit right with me to not host him, at least once.’ I reminded her that you were a King and busy and she said that ‘even King’s have to eat.’ So yeah.”

 

“I have always wanted to meet your grandmother,” T’Challa mused. “You always spoke so fondly of her and the stories you told. I remember one in particular, the one about an apple grove?”

 

Hmm. So he remembered that night too. It wasn’t that surprising.

 

“Yeah,” I said. “She has an old photo album and there’s some pictures of it.”

 

I paused and let the silence fill for a moment. The clock on the wall ticked loudly and I knew I was getting close to the end of my break.

 

“Sometimes,” I said softly, absently watching the second hand of the clock tick down the seconds. “I wonder what ever happened to Isaac.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“I mean, he’s the first person who I ever tried doing that too.”

 

“I’m still not quite sure what it is you did.”

 

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

“There’s wounds in people, deep where we can’t see. Like a tear in your soul that comes from the things that happen in life. People finds ways to heal it, but mostly they just cover it up. But then the wound is still open and the pain and everything associated with it comes out. Does that make sense?”

  
“Yes.”

 

I smiled slightly, always glad he had a way of understanding me even when I felt it was hard for me to do myself.

 

“Well, Isaac...his wound was fresh. Like whatever had caused that pain had literally just happened. And it was so deep and endless and....it felt like you could just drown in it.”

 

I shuddered at the memory and rubbed a hand down my arm.

 

“I couldn’t leave him like that, you know? I had to... I don’t know. I figured if I had something that could fill it up and push it out, then maybe I could help mend that wound for him. Or at least make it smaller.”

 

Manipulating emotions was one thing, but managing to enter into someone’s psyche and see the very essence of them. I’m not sure how I was able to do it or if I could do it again.

 

“What about you?”

 

I blinked at the question and frowned slightly.

 

“What do you mean?” I asked.

 

“You were ill afterwards,” he said. “And you were weak for days. Did you ever consider the long lasting consequences of what you had done? What if you hadn’t been able to recover?”

 

Had these been questions he had wanted to ask me?

 

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “Even if I did know, I would probably still help him.”

  
“Why?”

 

It sounded like he was genuinely curious. I found myself shrugging.

 

“Because I was the only one who could. And if I can help someone, I will.”

 

It was the same reason I stepped in when someone needed help. I didn’t do it often and I was always conflicted about it, but I found I couldn’t turn my back on someone who needed my help. It’s just how I was raised, I guess.

 

“You remind me of Shae,” T’Challa remarked after a moment. “You two would get along well, I think.”

 

“Who’s Shae?” I asked.

 

“She is N’Jadaka’s girlfriend,” he answered. “N’Jadaka is my cousin.”

 

“Oh,” I said. “Well I’m sure...”

 

The door opened suddenly and Lisa poked her head in.

 

“If you’re done playing pretend on the phone, we need you out here,” she said.

 

I resisted my urge to roll my eyes and just nodded. With a shake of her head, she closed the door.

 

“Hey, I gotta go,” I said.

 

“All right,” T’Challa said. “When shall we come?”

 

I paused, frowning slightly.

 

“Come for what?” I asked.

 

“Dinner,” he reminded me. “You mentioned that we were ordered to do so, yes?”

 

“Oh, no, it’s not that big of deal, I can just tell her...”

 

“But I am looking forward to it,” he interrupted. “What about tomorrow evening?”

 

“Yeah, if you really want to. She’d be happy to hear that,” I said.

 

“It’s settled then,” he said. “Have a nice shift, Jenna.”

 

The warmth in his words had me smiling, even though no one could see.

 

“Thanks, T.”

 

______________________

 

“Damn shorty, who you lookin’ that fine for?”

 

_Of all the days...._

 

T’Challa and Okoye would be arriving soon, and my grandmother had been fretting all day. It had been an excited energy, her eyes sparkling as she worked and sang in the kitchen. Considering that I had not developed the cooking skills needed, Nina had been designated as her sous chef, while I had been tasked with cleaning the house. Sweeping the porch had been my last task before I was finished for the evening.

  
“Hey Jaquim,” I sighed, and continued sweeping. “What’s up?”

 

Jaquim had always been laid back enough that I didn’t bother being around him. He had a faded cut and I could tell he had just gotten it lined up recently. Jaquim was one of those guys who was built for looks and not for combat. The muscles were there, but I had a feeling I had more fighting experience than he did.

 

“You ain’t been hitting me up,” he said, leaning against one of the entry posts. “Thought you might have lost my number.”

 

“Nope,” I said, sweeping the leaves off the edges of the porch. “Been busy.”

 

“Busy, huh?” He asked, watching me. “Ain’t you cold?”

 

I was wearing a red and black plaid dress with leggings and my favored pair of black booties. I hadn’t bothered putting a sweater on, relying on my internal source to keep warm.

 

“No,” I said, watching him slid his hands into his coat pockets. “Did you need something?”

 

He quirked a brow at me, frowning slightly.

 

“Why you being like that?”

 

He sounded more annoyed than hurt. Jaquim was used to getting attention, used to girls’ eagerness when he turned his sights on them. It’s probably why he sought me out so much. I fooled around with him, sure, but I could still turn him down when I wanted to.

 

“Being like what?” I asked and piled the small bowls that my grandmother had left out for the cats. I would clean and set them back out later.

 

Jaquim watched me for a moment before cocking his head.

 

“Someone coming over?”

 

The question was neutral but I spared him a look.

 

“Yeah, actually,” I said. “Hence the cleaning.”

 

I straightened and dusted of my dress.

 

“So, I don’t have time for...well, whatever you want.”

 

I heard the sound of an approaching car and turned to look. An expensive, black sports car was driving down the street and I saw Jaquim’s brows furrows as he stared at it. We watched as it rolled up to the house and parked, before Jaquim turned to look at me.

 

“What?” I asked defensively at his expression. “I told you someone was coming over.”

 

I was suddenly self conscious, aware that the car was probably the most expensive thing on this block. I spared a glance at the rusty chain link fence, the cracks in cement and the growing dandelions around the edges of the yard. My grandmother had taught me to never feel ashamed of where I came from, and yet, there was a part of me that wanted to rush into the house and call the whole thing off.

 

Instead, I stood my ground, reminding myself that T’Challa already knew that I hadn’t come from riches or class and he had stuck by me anyway.

 

 _Knowing and seeing are two different things_.

 

“Jaquim,” I said, trying to distract myself from my thoughts. “I’ll see you later, ok?”

 

He had returned his gaze to the car, watching as T’Challa and Okoye stepped out.

 

“Nah,” he said, watching as they approached. “Shit, I know him...that’s...”

 

I had never been sure of the level of T’Challa’s notoriety. I followed politics and world events, but not everyone did.

 

“Yo, how the fuck do you know the King of Wakanda?”  Jaquim demanded.

 

Then again, social media had been lit up when it was discovered that the wealthiest nation in the world was led by an African King.

 

“We went to school together,” I said lamely. “I didn’t mention that?”

 

Jaquim narrowed his eyes at me and frowned.

 

“That’s why you been distant like that?”

 

They were nearly here now and I was not looking to get into it with Jaquim right now.

 

“It’s got nothing to do with him or you, Jaquim,” I said firmly. “Look, why don’t you hit up one of your, I don’t know, dozens of other girls you fool with?”

 

Jaquim paused before straightening up and taking a step towards me. He reached out a hand to circle around my wrist.

 

“That’s what this is about?” He asked, smirking at me. “You know you my favorite, shorty.”

 

I pursed my lips, annoyance flaring in me. I knew he was putting on his show on purpose, aware that T’Challa was close enough to hear. I tugged my hand away and sidestepped him. T’Challa was watching us, though his face gave nothing away.

 

“Hey, T’Challa,” I said. “You’re early.”

 

“Yes, I apologize,” he said and I moved back to give him room to step onto the porch. “My meeting ended early. I hope that’s not a problem?”

 

“No,” I said, acutely aware of Jaquim’s annoyed energy behind me. “We’re pretty much finished anyway.”

 

He smiled and handed me a wine bottle. I read the label and found myself grinning.

 

“Oh my favorite sweet red?” I said, laughing lightly. “You remembered!”

 

“You made sure I wouldn’t forget,” he said, returning my smile. “It’s not much but...”

 

“Nope,” I said, cutting him off. “No, this is good. Thanks!”

 

The annoyance sharpened and I sighed.

 

_Niggas always be tripping when you don’t give them attention._

“T’Challa, this is Jaquim,” I said and waved between them. “Jaquim, King T’Challa of Wakanda.”

 

“Sup,” Jaquim said to T’Challa. “Y’all really went to school together?”

 

He was standing close, closer than I wanted him to, and I shifted a step away slightly.

 

“Yes,” T’Challa said.

 

Jaquim looked at him and frowned when he realized that T’Challa wasn’t going to elaborate on it further. It was kind of funny to see it happen to someone else for a change.

 

“And what? Ya’ll just stayed in contact that long?” Jaquim pressed.

 

“Obviously.”

 

Jaquim’s irritation grew and it was almost a comedic contrast from T’Challa’s calm.

 

“Me and Jenna are close,” Jaquim said, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Shorty never mentioned you.”

 

T’Challa just looked at him, seemingly bored with the conversation.

 

“Then you must not be that close then.”

 

I bit my lip and titled my head away, trying to control the urge to smile. Jaquim stiffened next to me and took a step forward. In the same movement, Okoye moved further onto the porch, taking position behind T’Challa’s left flank. She didn’t do anything, but she gave Jaquim a look that kept him from taking that next step forward.

 

“Oh and this is Okoye,” I said to Jaquim. “She’s actually the general of the Dora Milaje.”

 

“The what?” Jaquim asked.

 

“Dora...they’re basically the royal family’s bodyguards.”

 

“Huh,” Jaquim said.

 

Okoye said something in Xhosa, but kept her eyes trained on Jaquim. T’Challa smiled slightly but gave a small shake of his head before responding in their language. Jaquim eyed them, clearly annoyed by the exchange. He was bull-headed and I wasn’t going to stand around while he tried a pissing contest with T’Challa.

 

“Excuse us,” I said and grabbed Jaquim’s arm. “You guys can go on inside.”

 

T’Challa gave me an unreadable look before nodding. I tugged Jaquim down the steps and onto the sidewalk, relieved that I didn’t force him.

 

“That’s what you into now?” Jaquim asked when I turned to face him. “Bougey Africans who think they better than us?”

 

He was glaring at the front door that closed shut behind Okoye before turning to meet my gaze.

 

“You shouldn’t make assumptions, Jaquim,” I said, shifting my grip on the wine bottle. He spared it a glance and snorted.

 

“What?” I demanded.

 

“Shit, if all I had to do was bring you some wine to get into...”

 

“Finish that sentence and you will be on block. Permanently.”

 

We stared at each other, Jaquim’s anger flickering against my shields. It was a clear reminder why I never cared to have anything deeper with him. He was fun when he wanted to be, but I would never be able to get over his immaturity and tendencies for selfishness.   

Jaquim kissed his teeth and shook his head.

 

“Ay, let me know when you done playing hostess, aight?” He said and brushed past me. “If I’m still picking up.”

 

His dismissal of me didn’t sting as much as he probably wanted it to. But it did have the feeling of inadequacy stirring. I glared at his retreating back, not quite sure if I was angry at him or myself.

 

_Am I really playing pretend?_

 

________________

 

“I’m sorry, we still didn’t have that much time to clean as much as I wanted to when you called,” my grandmother was saying. “But dinner’s just about ready, so your welcome to rest in the living room.”

 

My grandmother had always been one for hosting, but it was amusing to see that even the notice of a King coming to visit was enough to fluster my often-composed grandmother.

 

Even so, she looked warm and welcoming in her green tunic, brown slacks and a pair of comfortable white loafers. The smile lines around her lips and eyes showed that despite the traumas of the past, my grandmother never forgot how to smile.

 

“In any case, my name is Genine Dawson and I’m honored to meet you, Your Majesty.”

 

She extended her hand for him to shake and he pressed his lips to the back of it. She beamed at him and let out a small laugh.

 

“The honor is mine,” T’Challa said and gave her a smile. “Your home is lovely Mrs. Dawson.”

 

“Well, thank you! Yes, this house has been around for years and seen some things, let me tell you,” she said with a sweep of her hand. 

 

“I am sure,” T’Challa said and looked at me. I felt my face heat and looked away.

 

“Now who may you be?” my grandmother asked Okoye. 

 

Okoye blinked and spared a glance at T’Challa, who grinned at her.

 

“Okoye,” she responded and inclined her head in greeting.

  
But my grandmother was never one for subtle greetings. She stepped forward and took Okoye’s hand and held it in her own, patting it.

 

“Well, Okoye, welcome to our home,” she said, still smiling.

 

“Thank you,” Okoye said, looking slightly amused, but not offended.

 

My grandmother just had that impact on people. Okoye seemed to like her at least. I don’t think I had made the best first impression on her.

 

“Now then. I’m sure you’re hungry so I’ll do my best to get things out to you, Your Majesty.”

 

“There is no need for a rush,” T’Challa said.  “And please, call me T’Challa.”

 

My grandmother’s smile widened and I shot him a look. He was charming her. I had no idea why, but T’Challa seemed to have the intent to win my grandmother over. He had always had that effortless charm to him, but now….

 

“Nina,” my grandmother called. “Can you come help me?”

 

 “Yes, ma’am,” Nina said and spared me a wink as she followed my grandmother into the kitchen.

 

“She is as you described her,” T’Challa remarked casually and I looked at him. “Very kind and warm.”

 

“Thanks,” I said, because I had no idea what else to say. “She’s always welcomed people into her home. She said that sometimes all people need is good food and a kind smile to help them get back on their feet.”

 

“Ah yes. She is well known in the neighborhood as having an ‘open home and open heart’, as you would say?”

 

I blinked at him.

 

“You remembered that?” I asked softly, and he inclined his head at me.

 

Those brown eyes studied me closely and I was very tempted to peek through my shields.

 

“I told you. There’s much I remember about you, Jenna,” he murmured, and I felt my face warm at his tone.

 

_He’s doing it again._

 

I glanced quickly at the Okoye, but she was studying T’Challa. When I returned my gaze to his, he didn’t seem bothered that she was standing there, listening.

 

“Jenna, I need your help, hon!”

 

“Coming,” I called back and gave him a weak smile. “Duty calls.”

 

He hummed in affirmation, that small smile still on his lips. I turned and quickly made my way into the kitchen.

This man was going to drive me crazy.

__________________

In the kitchen, the smells of seasonings and spices reminded me that I only had a small breakfast today. My mouth nearly watered at the sight of my grandmother’s freshly baked biscuits and she chuckled at my expression.

 

“We just need to plate the table and we can eat,” she said and nodded towards Nina. “Help her get the good china.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” I said and went to where Nina was standing on a small step stool and reaching for the top cabinets.

 

I dutifully took each plate as she began passing them down to me.

 

“Well it must be a yes, then?” my grandmother asked, putting the final touches on her sweet potatoes.

 

I frowned in confusion and glanced at her.

 

“A yes to what?” I asked.

 

“The program,” Nina muttered to me.

 

Oh, right!

 

“Uh…. it’s still up in the air,” I said and my grandmother frowned.

 

Nina put down the last plate and moved to put the stepstool away. My grandmother turned to face me more fully, her eyes peering at my face closely. I tried giving her an innocent gaze and a small smile.

 

“You’ve been a bit off since you came home a few nights ago,” she remarked. “Are you sure everything is all right?”

 

The excuse that Nina and I had gone out and had partied a bit too hard wasn’t too off the mark for my grandmother to accept. But I couldn’t hide the late nights and difficulty sleeping I been having. It was draining me slowly and I shouldn’t have been surprised she had noticed.

 

I could still remember, even with the collar on, that I had wondered if I would see her again. It had been an emotionless thought, but it had been there. I was suddenly overwhelmed at the thought that I truly might have never seen her again. Or worse…they could have tracked her down because of me and….

 

“I’m fine,” I said and shifted the plates to give her a one-arm hug. She smelled like cinnamon and I hugged her gently, aware of her fragility.  “Just…the stress was catching up to me.”

 

“Ah well,” she said patting my back lightly. “You know better than to push yourself.”

 

I gave her a light squeeze and then let go. She smiled at me and patted my cheek, the lines around her eyes creasing slightly. I decided then that I would ensure my grandmother would stay ignorant to the events of that night.

 

She spared a glance to Nina who gave her a smile. My grandmother reached out and patted her arm gently.

 

“You two and your little secrets,” she said and shook her head. “Well, I’ll leave you to them.”

 

She turned away and I spared Nina a glance. She grinned and shrugged lightly.

 

“Jenna,” my grandmother said without turning around. “Could you take those plates and show our guests to the dining room? Nina and I will be right out.”

 

________________________

 

The dining room entrance was a simple carved arch and T’Challa paused to study the details.

 

“You said your grandfather built the whole house?” he said, inspecting the molding.

 

“Yeah,” I said, stepping further into the room and laying out the plates. There were an older set that had been a wedding gift for my grandparents, and my grandmother only used them for special occasions. They were white with lace gold designs along the edges of the plate.

 

_Probably tacky where he’s from._

I shook my head slightly, trying to air out the thought. I flickered my eyes up to see Okoye watching me, casually standing behind an empty seat. There wasn’t any judgment on her face, but I noticed she always returned my gaze whenever I looked at her.

 

I wasn’t sure if it was a cultural thing or not but was never sure if I should look away first or not. She gazed at me for a moment longer, before she pointedly let her eyes drift away to rest on a framed picture of my grandparents that hung on the wall.

 

I glanced over to see T’Challa watching me. He inclined his head slightly and I glanced over at Okoye and back at him. I gave him a pointed look.

 

_She doesn’t like me, does she?_

He quirked a brow and nodded towards her slightly.

 

If our skills of nonverbal communication were still on point, I think he was telling me to try talking to her. I pursed my lips slightly and his lips twitched.

 

_Ok, fine._

I turned my gaze to Okoye and found her looking at me again. I felt my face heat when she gave me a look before glancing over at T’Challa. He grinned at her and her eyes narrowed slightly.

“Ah, Okoye,” I said and she returned her gaze to me. “I never got to thank you for helping…I mean, well saving me last night.”

 

She studied me for a moment before inclining her head.

 

“You are welcome.”

 

She didn’t say anything else and T’Challa gave her an almost disapproving look, but she just returned his gaze evenly. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

 

_This was going to be a long dinner._

 

_________________

 

I was in a melancholy mood during dinner, managing to smile and engage just enough that it wouldn’t make it too noticeable.

 

T’Challa didn’t seem to have that problem. He was making conversation easily and my grandmother were more than happy to engage with him. Okoye continued her silent observations, only politely replying whenever my grandmother tried drawing her into conversation.

 

“My husband made almost everything in this home,” my grandmother was saying. “Not just the house. He was good with his hands like that. Part of the reason why this house is still in such good condition. In fact, we haven’t even had to replace any furniture he made, including this table.”

 

“The craftsmanship is remarkable,” T’Challa said appreciatively. “And the food is delicious.”

 

Dinner was a seasoned and roasted chicken, with a side of roasted veggies, sweet potatoes and my grandmother’s famous biscuit and preserves. T’Challa had given me a knowing look when she said the preserves were made from apples, a recipe that her mother had given her.

 

“Thank you! I just love having guests and we haven’t had many in a while. Jenna works so much and honestly, I was so happy to hear you two reconnected. I was becoming a bit worrisome with how few people she actually has visit her. Lonely thing, she’s just worried so much about me she hasn’t had any suitors or anything.”

 

I stared at my grandmother, shocked at how blatant she was being. She quirked a brow at me challengingly and I pressed my lips together. I could feel T’Challa’s amusement and refused to look at him. When I looked to Nina, she was just smirking at me. I sipped at my glass of wine, trying to ignore the heat that was crawling up my neck.

 

“Is that so?” T’Challa murmured. “Then the gentleman this evening was?”

 

I shifted to look at him and he returned my look with a mildly curious gaze.

 

I wasn’t buying it.

 

“Jaquim is…a friend,” I said and Nina snorted.

“Oh, Jaquim stopped by?” my grandmother mused. “You two haven’t talked in a while, have you?”

 

I glanced at her, watching as she cut into another piece of chicken. My grandmother made a point of staying out of my business, but I knew she wasn’t oblivious. Whether she approved or not, she kept to herself and I appreciated that. However, this was the first glimpse that she might not be too keen on me ending up with Jaquim.

 

“No,” I said, watching her. “Not really.”

 

“So she’s right then. No suitors,” Nina said and took a sip of her own glass of wine. “Man, this is good.”

 

“Yes, I nearly forgot,” my grandmother said, smiling at T’Challa. “Thank you for the wine. I can’t drink it myself, but these two are wine drinkers, so it was quite thoughtful of you to bring something.”

 

“You are most welcome, Miss Genine,” he said and returned her smile.

 

I had imagined, at times, what it would be like to have T’Challa meet my grandmother and Nina. I had talked about him so often over the phone, that my grandmother had gotten a good sense of how close I had felt to him. She had also soothed my tears in the moments after everything went wrong. She knew or had at least made the wise assumption that my feelings for T’Challa had…have…been stronger than just friendship. And right now, I had gotten another chance at it again and things were going so well.

 

So why was there a uneasy feeling that just sat in the pit of my stomach for the last few days?

 

_When you’re doing playing pretend…_

 

I downed the rest of my glass of wine and tugged my napkin off my lap.

 

“Excuse me,” I said and pushed my chair back. “I’m…not feeling that great.”

 

I ignored the pair of eyes on me as I left the table and wrapped myself in my own shield, trying to ignore the range of emotions that I left behind.


	8. Chapter 8

 

One of my favorite spots in the house was my grandmother’s study on the first floor. It was another testament to my grandfather’s skill as a carpenter, as he had added that space just for her when he built the house, knowing how much she had always wanted a reading room.

It was small and there was a nice bay window that when the sun was up, sunlight streamed in, lighting up the old, wooden desk and chair that was stationed in the middle of the room. The floors were hardwood and creaked when you stepped into the room, even with the large rug carpet that was laid down. A small reading chair was in one corner and two big bookshelves lined the walls. It was very vintage and old, and I loved it.

I flicked on the lights, letting the room fill with an even glow. I moved to sit at the cushion seating of the bay window and drew my legs up and leaned against the window pane. The only lights were the street lamps and a few lights in the homes across the street.

Two kids were peering at T’Challa’s car, as they leaned on their bikes to get a good look. I lifted my hand and rapped my knuckles sharply against the glass and they whipped around to peer into the darkness. I waited until their eyes spotted me in the lit room and made an ‘eye see you’ gesture. They took off on their bikes, likely to find an easier target for their mischief. I watched their bike lights disappear into the night, absently remembering the last time I had watched a bike light so closely.

 _Bailed that night too_.

I closed my eyes and pressed my face against the glass, hoping the coolness would help with the headache was forming.

A light knock had my head lifting and I rubbed a hand across my forehead.

“Come in.”

T’Challa opened the door and stepped into the room, not quite closing the door behind him. I watched as he came to settle into the open seating on the opposite side of me

“Something wrong?” I asked, tucking a lock behind my ear.

“Is there?” he questioned, his eyes searching my face.

I glanced out the window again and smoothed my hands down my dress.

Isn’t this what I wanted? To be in his presence again? Get that second chance?

“I don’t know,” I said softly.

 I glanced at him and then quickly looked back out the window when I noticed he was watching me.

“You are nervous,” T’Challa said and I looked at him again. “You seem to be so in my presence it seems.”

  
“Well yeah,” I said and fiddled with one of my locks. “You’re a King, T’Challa.”

 

“I am aware,” he said dryly and frowned at me. “Why does that matter to you?”

I furrowed my brows at him, confused.

“I’m not sure I get the question,” I said, and he sighed.

“When you discovered I was a Prince there was an adjustment, yes, but you spoke freely to me, treated me as you always had,” he explained. “Now, you seem to pick your words carefully or become upset when you let something slip.” 

“Being a Prince and being a King are two different things,” I pointed out, hating that he was right. “Besides, we were closer back then. It was kind of easier.”

“It still could be,” he pressed, and I felt a flicker of his emotions against my shield. I didn’t open them though. “It is what I had hoped for when I came to see you again.”

“To be my friend again?” I asked and sighed. “Yeah, we kind of established that I guess.”

He studied me, those dark brown eyes holding mine steadily and I shifted under his gaze.

“We are limited in the amount of opportunities we are given and even more so in the ones we push ourselves to take,” he said, and I blinked. “Being your friend again, that is an opportunity I thought I would never have again.”

The words had my brows furrowing. I guess I had underestimated how much he had wanted the same thing.

“But being more than that,” he said and shifted so that he was sitting right next to me. “That is an opportunity I will not allow myself to ignore again.”

I felt my face warm as I stared at him, my shock making me freeze for a moment.

“I…you…what?” I struggled, trying to come to terms with what he just said.

T’Challa smirked at me and I felt a flicker of arousal in my lower belly.

“I am saying, entle,” he said, and I felt that heat spread with the use of that nickname. “That I want to be more than just your friend.”

He shifted his hand to grasp my own and rubbed his thumb across my knuckles.  I looked into those eyes and I knew he meant it. I didn’t have to glimpse at his energy to know he was sincere.

“You…you’re a King, T’Challa,” I said again, and he raised a brow. “I’m not even from Wakanda.”

“You are making a habit of telling me things I already know,” he said, his fingers still stroking patterns against my skin.

I tugged my hand away and hopped up and found myself pacing the room.

“This is insane. You have to know this insane. This whole thing…”

I spared him a glance to find him watching me patiently, his hands resting loosely in his lap. I stopped in front of him, feeling the frantic energy make my energy jump. It was too close to that night. Confessions that weren’t quite said, overwhelming feelings and….

_Nakia._

I stared at him, trying to will myself to ask about her. But I couldn’t. My friendship with Nakia had meant something and I didn’t want to water it down by me asking about her, solely for the fact of trying to determine if he was single. It was petty and jealous and it made the knot it my stomach grow tighter.

“Complicated,” I muttered as I began pacing, “everything is always so complicated with us.”

“I would agree,” T’Challa said mildly, watching me. “Calm down, entle.”

I stopped and pointed a finger at him. He raised a brow.

“Don’t call me that,” I said. “Not if you…”

The words trailed off and I let out an aggravated huff and started pacing again.

“Not if I don’t mean it?” T’Challa finished for me. “And what if I do?”

“You don’t,” I said and he frowned. “You know you don’t. We’re…we’re just pretending if…”

“Kumkani.”

I paused and turned to see that Okoye had opened the door slightly, though she had not quite stepped into the room. She held a cellphone in her hand and had it angled away from her mouth. 

“I am sorry to interrupt,” she said, sparing me a brief glance. “But Ayo has informed me that N’Jadaka has finished his interrogation.”

She paused and looked almost annoyed.

“He has been ignoring his kimoyo beads and we have been unable to get the report,” she said dryly. “Perhaps if you reached out directly?”

T’Challa read the look on her face and seemed torn between exasperation and amusement.

“Interrogation?” I asked, leaping on the change in subject. “So he’s questioned those men then?”

“It appears so,” T’Challa said. He was giving me a look that our conversation wasn’t over.

“Well, I want to sit in,” I said and he raised a brow. “You promised, remember?”

He held my gaze, but I didn’t back down. Finally, he nodded.

“Very well.”

“Great,” I said and move to the door. “I’m going to check to see if they need my help. Don’t let me miss anything, ok?”

I stepped past Okoye, not bothering to hear his response.

When I reached the dining room, Nina was piling dirty dishes into her arms. I could hear the sound of water running in the kitchen and knew my grandmother was already starting to clean up.

“Before you say anything,” I said before she could open her mouth. “T’Challa’s cousin got some answers about those men last night.”

Her curiosity sparked and she looked at me intently as I started gathering my own pile.

“Yeah?” she questioned and followed me into the hallway. “What did he say?”

“I don’t know yet,” I said, keeping my voice low. “T’s calling him now.”

“Hmm,” she said and nodded at me. “Ok, I’ll help out Ms. Genine. You find out what you can, ok?”

I smiled at her gratefully and stepped into the kitchen and spotted my grandmother putting away leftovers. She turned to give me a look and I gave her a weak smile.

“Sorry about dinner,” I said and set the dishes into the sink. “But T’Challa wants to talk to me about the program, so Nina’s going to handle clean up, ok?”

Her eyes light up at that and she smiled.

“All right,” she said and patted my arm. “Go on then.”

I nodded and headed back towards the study. I was confused about a lot of things, but hopefully one mystery would be explained.

_______________

“Ya’ll can’t keep out of fucking trouble, huh?”

I glanced at T’Challa’s cellphone as I closed the door to the study, raising a brow slightly. T’Challa had graciously switched to speaker phone and had set the cellphone on the desk. I settled into my spot at the bay window and noted that Okoye took her spot in front of the door. Whether it was habit or a choice, I wasn’t sure.

“I thank you for your assistance, N’Jadaka,” T’Challa said.

“Yo, you lucky Shae had me pick up the phone,” the deep voice groused.

I knew T’Challa had said he had been visiting his cousin in Oakland, but it hadn’t clicked until now that his cousin was actually _from_ Oakland.

 “Shit, you really are an Oakland nigga huh?”

There was a pause and T’Challa gave me a mild look. I shrugged. What? I couldn’t help myself. What side of the family was his cousin on? I definitely should have asked more questions about that.

“Ay, that yo’ girl, T?” his cousin asked finally. The amusement was clear in his voice.

_His girl? What the fuck?_

I felt my face heat and snapped my gaze to T’Challa. He held my gaze for a second before looking away and giving a mild cough. I heard a snicker from the other side of the phone and Okoye rolled her eyes.

“So, what’d you do, ma?” his cousin asked. “They was real interested in getting to you.”

I turned my attention back to the phone, realizing he was speaking to me now. I felt a flicker of irritation at his tone.

“It wasn’t my fault,” I protested. “I didn’t know anyone was looking for me.”

Not like that anyway. If this had happened while I had been helping someone….well, that would be one thing. But coming for me directly…

“Still yo’ ass is sloppy, though,” he responded. “Don't ya’ll know folks out here looking for people like you? And you just throw out small explosions, acting like no one’s gonna notice.”

I narrowed my eyes, feeling the irritation grow. Of course, I fucking knew that.

“Look, nigga,” I started.

“Want my help or not?” he asked, cutting me off. “Cause whatever you about to say may change my mind.”

T’Challa sighed.

 _‘Seriously?’_  I mouthed to T’Challa. He just shrugged and Okoye just gave me a mild look.

I debated whether giving into my frustration would make this worse or not.

 “Don’t worry, he’ll help you,” a new voice piped in. “He’s just gotta show his tough side first.”

The voice was feminine and I blinked again. Was this the girlfriend?  

 “Right, Erik?” she continued.

“Who’s Erik?” I asked in confusion. “I thought his name was N’Jadaka.”

“Oh, that’s his birth name. Erik’s his American name,” she explained. There was a brief pause before she started again. “Oh, I’m Shaeya Anderson by the way. Well, actually my friends call me Shae. Or sometimes I get called Dr. Shae, but that’s too stuffy don’t you think?”

 

She is the girlfriend then. Shae had paused again, but another flurry of words came through.

 

“Anyway, I’d say that he’ll help because your T’Challa’s friend. Well, we would help even if you weren’t because you should always try to help people, right, T’Challa?”

T’Challa chuckled lightly, smiling at the phone.

“Yes,” he agreed. “I share that sentiment.”

“See?” she prompted and I blinked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask what your name was?”

Her voice was kind and I found myself smiling at her energy. Even through the phone, I could sense she was a genuine person.

“Jenna,” I said and couldn’t help the amusement that slipped into my voice.  “Jenna Dawson.”

“That’s a nice name, Jenna,” she said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

_What? Why?_

“You have?” I asked, startled.

“Oh well, just a few times,” she said quickly. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad, you know? I mean Shuri and Nakia have nice things to say and T’Challa…”

She knew Nakia too? I looked at T’Challa but he kept his gaze on the phone. And what the hell had they been saying about me?

“N’Jadaka,” T’Challa said, cutting her off. “Were you able to get answers?”

Erik huffed out a laugh. I figured I’d stick to his American name, though I wasn’t quite sure which one he preferred.

 “Yeah,” Erik said. “He talked.”

I refocused on the phone and tucked my legs underneath me as I listened.

“Found out quite a bit. Our intel was right and their part of the same organization that tried breaking through the border last month.”

T’Challa had mentioned something about them answering for their crimes in Wakanda. Trying to breath through the border would put you on the King’s radar.

“Took what he gave me and it checks out,” he continued. “They real unorganized though, calling themselves an international terror group. Pretty damn close to being Hydra wannabes.”

T’Challa hummed thoughtfully, a sign that he was listening.

“They’re grabbing tech they find on the black market and trying to utilize it for weapons. Some Chitauri weapons, but that drew too much attention and was too unstable. U.S. Department of Damage Control actually did a pretty decent sweep to get most of it. They’ve been looking for alternative avenues and started getting greedy for Wakandan tech.”

I furrowed my brows at that. I had followed that too. There had been a few incidents of civilians getting their hands on the alien tech and causing a bit of chaos. USDDC had cracked down harder since then.

“Since we got our shit together it’s too hard for them to get to it though, so they’re trying to figure out how to get it. They hope if they can snag some, it’ll increase their presence in the black market. The Vibranium that's still out there? The stakes are real high and they’re trying to be the sole provider.”

“Lofty goals,” T’Challa murmured and there was a hint of irritation in his voice.

“No shit,” Erik said. “But they’ve got a few tactics they’re trying to work on. One of ‘em is to start shit in neighboring countries, especially close to the border.”

“Hoping we will be distracted with the unrest in neighboring countries,” Okoye said. “That still wouldn’t get them inside.”

 

“They think it might,” Erik said.  “Cause enough unrest from poorer countries, while you got the wealthiest nation sitting right next to them. Next thing you know, other countries got the high ground when they claim Wakanda ain’t doing shit for no one. They’ll start pointing fingers and say it’s Wakanda’s fault they ain’t got nothing. Real good speech to sell when you’re trying to build a crew to attack.”

 

Neither T’Challa or Okoye responded for a moment. I watched them, finding myself agreeing with Erik. People always needed a scapegoat when things went bad. And when things are real bad, they didn’t need much to find one.

 

“But you guys are helping,” Shae piped in. “I mean, the relief and aid has been going out there. The world can see you’re helping people.”

 

“It’s spin,” Erik told her.  “They’ll start claiming if they had direct resources then they wouldn’t have to rely on Wakanda for help. They’ll try to say Wakanda is doing it for political control, not really to help.”

 

“That’s not fair,” she insisted. “I mean, shouldn’t it be on those countries leaders to help their people?”

 

“You’d think,” Erik muttered.

 

 “I’m not saying this isn’t important,” I interjected. “But what does this have to do with me?”

 

As interesting as this was, it wasn’t helping me understand why those men had come after me.

 

“Yeah, I was getting to that,” Erik said. “You can do energy manipulation, right?”

  
I twitched and glanced at T’Challa. He inclined his head at me and I pressed my hands into my knees. Of course he would have to tell him. Or if he didn’t the men would have. They knew that much about me when they showed up.

  
“Yes,” I said hesitantly, my gaze drifting back to the phone.

 

“How often you use your powers?” he asked.

 

I didn’t say anything, still reeling from the fact that apparently everyone fucking knew now.

 

“At least three times a month, it looks like,” Erik said after I moment.

 

My hands twitched in my lap agian and I glared at the phone.

 

“How the hell do you know that?” I snapped.

 

T’Challa raised a brow at me and I took a breath.

 

 _Just stay calm. This isn’t their fault_.

 

“Every time you start blowing shit up, it gives off a pretty fucking strong energy signature,” Erik said. “Looks like you’ve done it enough that if anyone was watching, they’d notice.”

 

“Oh,” I heard Shae say softly. “That’s her?”

 

“Yep,” Erik said and he sounded impressed.

 

“Shit,” I said.  

 

“Didn’t think about that did you?” Erik said and snorted.

 

There it was again. That condescending tone. Not quite talking down but almost as if he was saying ‘ _don’t think, do you?’_

 

“Look, I wasn’t trying to bring attention to myself. How was I supposed to know people would be looking out for that?”

 

“You blow shit up, ma,” Erik said exasperatedly. “Whether you figured it or not, people were gonna notice eventually.”

 

I looked away, hating that he was right. I had been so sure that I would be off the radar, that my powers weren’t enough to catch anyone’s attention.

 

“Anyway, the colonizer ya’ll brought in is part of the group that sectioned off to try their next tactic,” Erik continued.

 

“Which is?” T’Challa asked.

 

“Mutant slaves,” Erik said, and I tensed. “They look for people like homegirl here and grab ‘em. Some they try to convince, others they take by force.”

 

“The collar they attempted to use was a suppressant,” T’Challa said. “The technology was advanced, but poorly copied.”

 

“Like I said, they’re still trying to get their shit together. Some of my contacts mentioned they recognize some of the names I got and it looks like some circles are starting to put out bids for mutants or people with enhanced abilities. Bring ‘em in and turn them into a weapon.”

 

I heard the words, but locked myself away from responding to them. T’Challa was watching me as his cousin continued speaking.

 

“Someone like her,” Erik mused.  “Ay, what else can you do?”

 

Shit, might as well lay everything out for everyone to hear.

 

“I can put up force fields too,” I said and paused. “I’m also an empath.”

 

“Empath?” Shae asked. “Like you can sense other’s emotions?”

 

“Yes,” I said, unwilling to look at T’Challa. “I can manipulate them too, make people feel what I want them to.”

 

I could feel T’Challa’s gaze on me. He knew what that meant, he had to know what that meant. I had never gotten around to apologizing for that. Not properly, now that he knew what I could do.

 

“Damn,” Erik muttered. “Yeah, there’s folks that want someone like you. Pay big too.”

 

_More like an animal than a human._

 

“So, they’d either sell me or keep me for themselves?” I asked, my voice flat.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“That will not happen,” T’Challa said. The edge in his voice had me looking up to meet his gaze. “N’Jadaka, are you sure he gave you everything?”

 

“Yeah,” Erik said, his voice flat. “I made sure.”

 

“There is no chance he deceived you?” Okoye prompted. “As inefficient as they seem, he was very resistant to initial questioning before we sent him to you.”

 

“Ya’ll ain’t me,” Erik responded. “I got what we needed. Made sure he knows what’ll happen if I find out he was lying.”

 

There was something about the emptiness of his words that had me sparing the phone another glance. I didn’t know how he did it, but it was like he had shut off everything. All of that had been conveyed in his tone alone.

 

_Who is this guy?_

 

“Got one more thing,” Erik said after a brief silence. “Charlie checked in with me this morning. I had him looking into this since you called, and he found out they were putting on an auction in Chicago. Underground shit, but one of their leaders will be there. They trying to get their name circulating out there and already sold three mutants, from what he found out. She’d be a high price item. They don’t have any physical details on her though, just what she can do. It’s why they stopped by to grab her. They wanted to get her checked in and trained before the auction.”

The words had something flare inside me and my energy leaked out, my hands glowing slightly

It. Item. Animal.

_You think you’re a person?_

“I’m not a fucking item,” I snapped.

T’Challa reached over and rested his hand along mine. My energy licked along his hand, but he didn’t pull it away. I let out a shaky breath.

“Sorry,” I said, letting his energy seep in and soothe me.

“All good,” Erik said evenly. “Shit’s fucked up.”

_No shit._

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

“Even so,” Okoye said carefully. “There is an opportunity here.”

I looked at her and noticed, for the first time, she wasn’t quite looking at me.

“What do you mean?” I asked tiredly.  

Okoye didn’t respond for a moment. Her gaze was trained on T’Challa, who was frowning slightly.

“They are already looking for….,” she started.

“No.”

T’Challa said the word sharply and Okoye immediately grew quiet. I blinked, startled to hear him use that tone.

“Shit, pretty cold blooded, ma.”

Okoye made a disgruntled noise and T’Challa scowled. I was missing something and felt T’Challa’s irritation flicker. He pulled his hand away and I straightened and glanced to the phone.

“What?” I demanded. “What is?”

“Kumkani, I do not suggest putting her in danger but,” Okoye started.

T’Challa cut her off in Xhosa and whatever he said made Erik snort. Okoye responded and then Erik said something. They began arguing in neutral tones and I rolled my eyes.

_Typical._

“Well this is just fucking rude,” I muttered and crossed my arms.  

“Yeah,” I heard Shae sigh. “They do this sometimes. I tell myself I’m going to learn. I might be able to now that I'm here.”

I raised a brow, slightly amused that someone could share in my frustration.

_Wait._

I shifted closer to the phone, letting myself focus only on Shae’s voice. .

“You’re in Wakanda?” I asked, dimly remembering that T’Challa had mentioned something like that.

 “Yeah,” she said.

“Lucky,” I muttered.

I had no idea if I was ever going to go. I had no idea what was going to happen to those men. I had no idea if someone was going to come after me, since I was apparently on someone’s radar for a potential slave.

I felt my irritation grow at so many unanswered questions filtered through my mind.

“T’Challa,” I said, knowing they wouldn’t quit unless I interjected. “Just tell me.”

They all grew quiet, but no one offered me any answers. I narrowed my eyes at T’Challa, but he didn’t respond. I spared Okoye a look but she was frowning at T’Challa.

 _Wakandans and their fucking secrets_.  

“Shit, I’ll tell her,” Erik said suddenly. I blinked at look at the phone.

_Or not I guess._

“Of course you will,” T’Challa retorted and I spared him a look.

“Watch it, nigga,” Erik. “We all get our choices, right?”

T’Challa’s face slipped into his neutral expression, but he muttered something in Xhosa.

I wondered how often the cousins got into it. It seemed Erik had found that T’Challa’s patience wasn’t endless.

“They got an auction going on,” Erik started and I felt a flicker of impatience.

“Yeah, I got that,” I interrupted. “And I was likely on the list, got that too. Get to the point.”

“Interrupt me again, girl,” Erik snapped.

I curled and uncurled my fist as I glared at the phone.

“This nigga,” I muttered.

“The fuck you say?” he growled.

Huh. Had I said that out loud?

“Nothing,” I said. “Sorry, I’ll be quiet.”

There was silence on the phone and I wondered at how petty he could be.

“Their leader, Mark Fervis, isn’t trying to go out too much,” he said finally. “He rarely makes appearances, but this will be the bigger auction they’re having. He’s willing to risk it, because if they get someone like you, they’re plan can take off. But he won’t always be in the open. Too many eyes are looking for this type of shit, so they limit in person bidding. We got our way in now.”

It only took me a moment before it clicked and I let out a breath.

_Yeah. Oh hell yeah._

“I’ll do it,” I said. “If those fuckers are going to be there, I’m going to help.” 

 “You are not trained,” Okoye stated.

I looked at her, not caring if my expression wasn’t quite friendly.

“I’m sorry,” I replied evenly. “I thought you were just trying to get me to go?”

“I was not trying to bring you along,” Okoye said. “They do not know what you look like. We can have a stand in.”

I made an irritated noise. She had to be kidding.

“A stand in? I’m the only one who has actual powers, here.”

“And yet, you required rescue, did you not?” Okoye responded evenly.

I knew for sure the look she was giving me was challenging now and I stood up. Her face remained impassive as she gazed back at me and I scowled.

 “That wasn’t,” I started and then huffed. “Look, I was caught off guard ok?”

“And do you expect every attacker to wait until you are ready?” Okoye quipped back.

 “You don’t know...”

“Enough.”

T’Challa’s command had the words dying in my throat. I finally tore my gaze from Okoye to see T’Challa’s expression was still an empty mask, his emotions shielded from me. He had crossed his arms, his ring finger tapping against his bicep.

 “I have no desire to involve you in this, Jenna,” he said.

“But…”

The look he sent me had me shutting up. I was getting a glimpse into the commanding presence he had as King, able to silence someone with a look or the raise of a hand.

_Sexy as fuck though._

Nope, not going there.

 “It appears we have no choice,” he continued, his tone terse. “If the situation calls for it, she may have to demonstrate her abilities as part of this…. auction. It will blow our cover if her stand in is unable to do so.”

I peered at him closely, trying to see through his shields

 “So, you’re cool with me going?” I prompted.

“No,” T’Challa said flatly. “N’Jadaka, how soon is this auction?”

“About a month out, “Erik said. “Maybe two if they’re still organizing.”

“Bast,” T’Challa muttered. “That will not be enough time.”

“For what?” Shae asked.

At least she had asked and not me. I didn’t want to look any more inept than I had to.

“One, homegirl needs to be trained for this. Shit goes down, she’ll be front and center and we need to make sure she can handle it,” Erik explained. “Two, T and Okoye can’t be with her. The people there will recognize ‘em because they’re too public now. We need someone who can be there to bid her off and have her back while we standby on the side lines.”

“Why not you?” she asked. “I mean, you’re really good and if she needed protection, you could definitely throw down.”

The admiration in her voice was clear. I didn’t know what Erik was capable of, but Shae seemed to.

“Nah, there’s a chance someone there will recognize me too. Using my contacts to get info is one thing but going in person ain’t the best option for me anymore.”

“Oh,” she said. “What about Nakia?”

It was odd hearing her name out loud again. It made me wonder how long it would have taken me the courage to ask about her.

“Nakia,” Okoye repeated. “She is an excellent option.”

Nakia was an option? I thought of her brief year at Oxford. And then she had said she was returning home to further her studies….

 “Nakia is a spy?” I asked, the pieces clicking together. “Holy shit that makes so much sense.”

I spared a glance at T’Challa who still had his arms crossed.

Well, shit. Since it’s out there now.

“How is she, by the way?” I asked, hoping my tone sounded casual.  

Okoye was watching us, but I did my best to ignore her.

 “Nakia is thriving in Oakland,” T’Challa responded, having slipped back into that neutral tone. “She will likely have much to attend to as part of her duties.”

I raised a brow at that and he merely gave me a mild look. That didn’t give me much. Granted I hadn’t come out and asked him. But still, knowing Nakia was out there, living her best life, I felt….

Happy.

“Well that’s good,” I said. “She’s always talked about making a change, so good for her.”

I winced, wondering if the words came out catty. I really meant them. It was conflicting and awkward, but I was happy that Nakia was seeing success in her life. Though it was how it was comparing to mine that had me glancing out the window.

“Nakia would come if you asked for help, Jenna,” Shae said suddenly. “She’s been talking about wanting to see you again.”

The words startled me and I glanced at the phone.

_Really?_

“She has?” I asked hesitantly.

I didn’t think I’d even be on her radar. T’Challa had been a maybe on whether or not he remembered me. But to know that Nakia wanted to see me then….

“Yep,” she said. “I know you guys would be on a mission and everything. But it’d be a good way to catch up you know? Like talking about boyfriends and other stuff.”

I blinked at that and felt my face heat. I thought of the incident with Jaquim and the brief conversation at the dinner table.

Why was everyone so interested in my love life?

 “I don’t…um, I don’t have a boyfriend,” I said, feeling the heat on my face. “I mean there’s this guy, but it’s not…you know what, never mind.”

I faltered at the look T’Challa was giving me. A slight frown as he eyed me and I pressed my lips together.

 _What?_ I asked him silently.

He shook his head slightly and looked away. 

 “Oh well, I’m sure there’s other stuff to talk about,” Shae was saying. “I like talking to Erik and Nakia about spy stuff and Shuri about her technology. And T’Challa and I chat sometimes, especially because I always have questions about running a kingdom. By himself. Like that must be hard, doing it by yourself. Well, basically by yourself.”

T'Challa rubbed a hand across his brows and Okoye was gazing at the phone, with something close to amusement on her face. 

 _I like her_.

 “It is getting late,” T’Challa said mildly. “We should reconvene tomorrow to discuss strategy.”

“Oh, I'm not tired,” I said, smirking at him. “Shae, right? Do you mind if I get your number?”

 “No, I don’t mind,” she I said enthusiastically. “Let me know when you’re ready, so you can jot it down.”

“For Bast’s sake,” T’Challa muttered.

 

“Yo, this shit is priceless,” Erik laughed.  “Jenna, he got his hands behind his back?”

T’Challa had, in fact, stood to clasp his hands behind his back. He met my smirk with a mild look.

“Yes,” I said.

Erik laughed louder and T’Challa rolled his eyes. I glanced over at Okoye and for a quick second, we shared a smile.

Yeah, I hadn’t met her properly, but I liked Shae. 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

** Chapter 9 **

It was decided that my training would start immediately. T’Challa and Okoye had been away from Wakanda for too long and would need to return soon. That didn’t give us a lot of time to provide me with the level of training that T’Challa felt comfortable with me having. He still wasn’t happy about my involvement, but he didn’t protest it anymore.

Instead they focused on building a strategy that could help compensate my lack of training in the field by pairing me with Nakia. She would pose as my seller for the auction and would help keep me on point. T’Challa and Erik would be back up, waiting to get our target out when the time was right.

Nina was hyped as shit about all of this, but I could also detect her underlying anxiety. She had gotten a glimpse of the dangerous world I was about to step into and she seemed a lot more hesitant than she had before for me to get involved. She still had her art gallery she was focused on, but as the days ticked down, she started looking at me with more and more worry.

T’Challa had warned me about that.

“As much as her support is important to you,” he had said. “You have to remember that there is nothing she can do to help you. And that may make telling her everything harder than either of you expect.”

He had never told me I couldn’t tell her, but the warning was clear. Whatever happened, it may be best to limit as much as the details from her as I did my grandmother.

In fact, it was my grandmother’s happy and soothing presence that made the days bearable. It was like basking in warm sunlight whenever I got home, helping ease away my own anxieties and worries. As far as my grandmother was concerned, I had gotten into the program and was just anxious for the days until the program started. Who was I to shatter that illusion and take her joy from her? And besides, the summer program _was_ still on the table. She had made sure to ask before T’Challa and Okoye had left our home that night and he had just smiled and said he would love to have me.

My grandmother had turned to me with her beaming smile and had exclaimed, “Ain’t God good!”

“All the time,” Nina and I had said automatically.

Here’s hoping that faith would carry me through the days to come.

____________________________

My powers turned out to be more automatic reflexes than I had originally thought. The first few days of training had showed me that.

“Shields down, Jenna,” Okoye commanded. “You are not to use your powers in these sessions.”

Panting and braced on my knees, I took a deep breath and consciously forced my shield to drop. I hadn’t meant to put it up, not really. But I had also been sparring with Okoye for the last few days and had gotten a very healthy dose of wariness whenever homegirl started whipping out her spear.

Made of pure fucking vibranium. And she seemed to have no intention of holding back on her blows with it. I had the fucking bruises to prove it.

_That’s what you get for being so cocky._

I wasn’t unfamiliar with fighting. I had gotten into a few fights when I was younger, not too much to make my grandmother worry, but enough to know how to make sure people left me alone. Then I had taken self defense classes to actually learn some techniques and utilized that to help keep me in shape. But there had never been a strict regimen or consistent training. Something Okoye had pointed out after our first day.

_“You rely too much on your powers,” she said. “That is not proper training. In order to truly master combat, you must rely on your body alone and nothing else.”_

_I was glancing around the large gym, taking in the open space with the floor mats, a few bags strung up on the sides and workout machines and equipment that had been pushed out of the way._

_I titled my head to look at T’Challa, a brow raised._

_“What, you rented the whole gym?” I asked._

_“No,” he said, stretching out one arm. “I bought it.”_

_I stared at him and saw him smirk at me slightly._

_“You can’t be…”_

_“Jenna.”_

_The sharpness of my name had me returning my gaze to Okoye. She was giving me an impatient look and I gave her a placating smile._

_“Sorry, you were saying?”_

_She spared T’Challa a glance before shaking her head._

_“When we are in this ring, you will not use your powers. Is that clear?”_

_I rocked back on my heels and nodded._

_“Yeah,” I said. “I got it. Piece of cake.”_

_She smiled then and I hesitated._

_“We shall see.”_

She’s been kicking my ass every session. I haven’t been completely helpless and have done my best to keep up, but I was learning that I was out of my league. I spared a glance at T’Challa, who had come to every session and had stood by quietly, watching us with a neutral expression. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to prove a point to me or if I was supposed to prove one to him.

The sharp bang of Okoye’s spear on the mat drew my gaze back to her. She did a neat spin with it in one hand and nodded to me.

“Again.”

I knew there wasn’t any point in arguing. We would not stop until she was satisfied with me for the day. Or fed up.

I took in another deep breath and straightened.  I shook out my hands and curled them into fists, shifting my feet to get into my stance. She inclined her head slightly, a motion of approval before she leapt.

My goal for these sessions was to keep up with her as much as possible. That meant every time that spear came swinging for me, I knew when to duck, deflect or get out of the way. She had me on defensive most of the time and I was still working on getting the opening to turn the tide on her. But the struggle of _not_ using my powers was a lot harder than I ever thought it would be. It was just enough to move quickly, while also resisting the urge to strike out with an energy blow here or there. It was like I was both using and fighting against my instincts at the same time.

The edge of her spear swept out suddenly and caught me by the ankles. My legs were yanked out from underneath me and I landed with a hard thump onto the mat. When I looked up, the tip of her spear was pointed towards me. Not close enough to be dangerous but to make the message clear.

Panting, I glared up at her, struggling to catch my breath and form words at the same time.

“Okoye.”

We both turned to see T’Challa stepping onto the mat, his gaze trained on her.

“I will take it from here.”

I blinked and Okoye raised a brow. A second later, she righted her spear and took a step back.

“You have gotten better,” T’Challa said and reached down a hand to me. “But you lack confidence.”

I frowned as he helped me to my feet and shook my head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You are so reliant on your powers that you think it’s the only way you can win in a fight. The more Okoye pushes you, the more your powers react as you stay on the defensive.”

He stepped around me, arms crossed as surveyed me.

“You cannot expect to obtain her level of skill in mere months,” he continued as he circled me. “Nor do we expect that of you.”

He came to stand in front of me and I eyed him, still not clear on what he wanted.

“During the mission you will have to keep yourself contained as much as possible. The collar was re-modified to allow you access to your powers, but it will still dampen them.”

Appearances were important to the mission’s success and part of my role was to act like a subdued mutant ready for bidding. Which meant I had to put that damn collar back on. I had done my best not to react to this news, though I was aware T’Challa knew my feelings on the matter. His assurances that he would make sure that changes would be made to the collar and that anything that remained was for show only. I had seen some of the inventions he had worked on when he was in school - I knew he would make sure it wouldn’t hurt me.

“Ok,” I said. “So?”

T’Challa smiled slightly.

“You are trying too hard to withhold yourself. It is quite noticeable,” he said. “You need to look natural when you’re not using them, instead of appearing to struggle in holding back.”

I threw my hands up in frustration.

“Well what do you want me to do then?” I snapped. “I’ve been getting my ass kicked the last few days by not using them and you say I lack confidence. Then you say I’m holding back! Which is it?”

“There needs to be a middle ground for you,” T’Challa continued, ignoring my outburst. “We have tried having you not use your powers. Let’s see how you do when you do use them.”

I planted my hands on my hips and huffed out a breath. He gave me a patient smile.

“This is all a part of training, Jenna. The first tactic may not always be the best one. You have to learn to observe and change your strategy when necessary. That means thinking and reacting quickly.”

Always watching and observing. That brilliant mind seemed two steps ahead of everyone.

“Come,” he said, waving me forward.

“You want me to use my powers?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Like how much?” I asked. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

I couldn’t quite say that the smile he gave me was cocky. There was no arrogance to it, but a self-assuredness that said he had no concerns that I could hurt him.

I frowned and looked at Okoye.

“If I do hurt him,” I said. “You won’t kill me will you?”

I was joking, but she glanced at T’Challa and then back to me.

“It depends.”

I blinked at that and furrowed my brows.

“On what?”

“Whether the King is able to command me not to in time.”

I stared at her, not completely convinced that she was kidding.

“This is a bad idea,” I said turning back to T’Challa. “I’ll just keep trying with Okoye and...”

“Do not worry about Okoye,” he said, sparing her a mild glance. “She will not interfere.”

I looked at Okoye again and she just gave me one of her looks. Her ability to convey messages with just her facial expressions alone was a skill I wish I had.

“Jenna.”

I sighed and returned my attention to T’Challa and shook out my arms.

“Ok,” I sighed. “If that’s what you want.”

I had never seen T’Challa fight before. I knew he was in shape, his muscular physique was enough evidence of that. And I had learned that he was also the Black Panther, a mantle that was passed down from warrior to warrior in his culture, and entitled him with duties as the protector of Wakanda.

In hindsight, I should have utilized this knowledge as we began sparring. It wasn’t hard to understand now why T’Challa did not seem wary about fighting me. He had basically been bred for combat and who knew how many fights or missions he had been in.

“Concentrate, Jenna,” he said after easily dodging my next blow. “You are reacting instead of focusing.”

I glared at him as I clenched my glowing fist and reset my stance.   


“Well, if you stopped darting around like that,” I snapped. “How the hell am I supposed to hit you?”

He moved with a sleek grace that reminded me of the large cat of his title. Anytime I rushed him, he avoided my blows quickly or deflecting them by brushing my wrists away before my hands made contact.

“Who said I would let you?” He retorted and shook his head. “You want to use your powers, so use them.”

I stood ready, trying to temper my frustration. It wasn’t helping that he was distracting, even though he was wearing nothing more than a pair of shorts, tank top and sneakers. My eyes traced the hard muscles of his shoulders and arms, mentally wondering if his smooth, brown skin was as soft as it looked.

_Just imagine if he had actually broken a sweat._

 “Focus, Jenna.”

I snapped my gaze to his face, feeling the heat on my cheeks as he smirked at me. We had never finished our conversation from earlier and I had made firm attempts to keep it that way. Wasn’t really helping my case if I was going to keep getting caught ogling him like that. 

Taking a breath, I let myself focus. The energy around my hands was like a warm glove, a force of power that I could push out with every punch. Technically, I could just push the force of the blast off, but I’m not sure T’Challa would be too keen on me destroying his gym.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling the power in my veins, muscles, tissues. I opened myself to it and flexed my fingers as I drew it out. When I opened my eyes, I knew the irises were glowing a molten gold, another physical manifestation of my powers.

T’Challa regarded me with no indication of fear. He seemed to be simply waiting, his arms held loose at his sides as he watched me. Whether he knew it or not, his lack of reaction touched me. That he didn’t automatically respond with fear or hesitation helped me settle in the conviction that he truly accepted what I was.

_Until he can see what you can really do._

I didn’t allow the thought to give me pause, instead focusing on our sparring. As shielded as he was, there is still a part of your energy signature that you can’t hide away. It’s that last spark that tells me someone is alive. I focused on T’Challa’s spark, using it to keep track of his movements.

I moved quicker now, aided by my other senses. We parried back and forth, T’Challa dodging my strikes and recovering quickly if I got too close. One blow got too close and he moved back quickly. Suspecting I could get him off balance, I rushed forward, swinging out my fist, confident I’d connect. But he caught my wrist quickly and yanked me towards him, nearly causing me to stumble. I caught myself and turned, giving him my back, as I moved my elbow up for another strike. He caught that too and shifted his grip to slide his hand down to grab my other wrist before I could follow through the move.

He held my arms trapped behind me, his grip firm on my wrists. He drew me back until I was flushed against him and I could feel his breath along the shell of my ear.

“Better,” he said into my ear. “But not quite there yet.”

I felt the tickle of sensation along the back of my neck, hyperaware of how close he was to me. I could feel the heat of his body through his clothes and tried very hard not to feel every ridge and muscle against me. The heat flared in my lower belly and I let out a shaky breath.

“If you let me go, “ I said, hating how breathy I sounded. “I can show you how much better I can be.”

“Hmm,” he mused. “You are so responsive, entle. I wonder...”

His long fingers stroked up my forearms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears and the energy around my hands pulsed slightly. The desire caused heat to spread along my body, amplified by his solid body pressed against me.

“We need to work on your distractions,” T’Challa murmured and I felt the light brush of his lips right below my ear. It was one of my sensitive spots and I couldn’t help the small shudder when he repeated the motion.

_Yes...No....Yes..._

A sharp clearing of the throat had us both freezing.

“If I remember correctly,” Okoye said dryly. “We have only so much time for her training, yes?”

T’Challa and I both glanced in her direction to see her giving us both mildly disproving looks. T’Challa released my arms slowly and took a step back. I turned to face them both more fully, but kept my gaze trained on a distant wall, willing my body to calm down.

“Are you willing to continue?” T’Challa asked.

_Are you going to behave?_

He smirked at the look I gave him, clearly guessing my thoughts.

“Sure,” I said, hoping my voice conveyed I was unaffected. “Let’s do this.”

I learned quickly that T’Challa was no easier a master than Okoye was.

_Work is going to be a bitch tomorrow._

____________

I wasn’t wrong about my shifts seeming to lag after a morning training session. Even when I had been training with Okoye, my recovery time had seemed to take much longer and I dreaded the days I had to help unload and stock.

But after training started to include sparring with T’Challa, I found the soreness to be worse. I don’t know if it was a side effect of exerting my energy while using my powers, but I often felt even more drained.

I had never had real sparring partners before and had underestimated the amount of work and skill that went into keeping up to someone of their caliber. The only thing that kept me going was T’Challa’s genuine assurances that I was getting better. Even Okoye granted me an almost smile after today’s session.

It made coming into work seem almost illogical. I mean, I wasn’t attached to this job at all…but I still needed something to pass the time.

I don’t plan on being here forever after all. 

“I heard your name was in the running for the assistant manger position.”

I spared Lisa a glance as I slid out a box cutter and bent down to unpack the next box of sketch pads for shelving.

“What?”

Lisa was leaning against shelving unit, watching as I began stacking the pads on the shelves. Her hair was cotton candy pink now and pulled into a loose bun on top of her hair.

“The assistant manager position?” She prompted. “You know? Kevin’s been going on and on about it the last few months?”

“Oh yeah,” I said and bent down to get the next pile. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

I moved to lift a larger stack and winced, feeling my sore muscles protest. Lisa noticed my halting movement and reached over to tug the stack into her arms.

“You ok?” She asked as she shelved the items.

“Yeah,” I sighed and rubbed my knuckles against one shoulder. “I started a new workout routine and it’s been a bit rough starting out.”

“I need to start something again,” she sighed and plucked at the tightness of her shirt. “It’s just hard getting into a routine by yourself, you know? Oh! Maybe I could start working out with you? We could even ride to work together!”

“Well....”

“Actually, I don’t like getting up that early,” Lisa said. “Did you hear that Bailey was talking shit about our shift? She was like ‘if you weren’t so lazy you could make the morning shift and get off earlier’. I can’t with her, she’s always got something snide to say. She’s actually being considered too and I hope you get the job because if she ends up being our new AM I don’t know if I’ll...”

Lisa’s pause had me looking up, curious to see what had distracted her well enough to cut off her rant. I followed her line of sight and stiffened when I found the figure she was staring at.

T’Challa met my gaze and grinned at me.

_What the hell is he doing here?_

The only time we saw each other was for the sparring sessions, as he was essentially juggling his duties remotely as much as he could. I told myself that even if he wasn’t as busy, I wouldn’t try to seek more of his time.

_Well that’s a fucking lie._

Whatever.

“He looks familiar,” Lisa was saying to herself. “You’d think I’d remember someone that good looking, you know? Oh, he’s coming over!”

She smoothed down the polo shirt of her uniform and patted at her hair. Did she think he was coming to her?

_Ok, that’s actually kind of funny._

“Hello, Jenna,” T’Challa said as he reached us. “Is this a good time?”

Lisa’s gaze snapped to me and I groaned internally. Everyone was going to hear about this tomorrow. And if she figured out who he was, I’d never hear the end of it.

“Ah, not really,” I said, ignoring Lisa’s gaze. “I’m not quite at break time yet.”

“Oh, I can cover for you, Jenna,” Lisa said, smiling brightly. “And it’s not that busy, so I’m sure Kevin won’t mind if you and your...”

She let the sentence trail off, waiting for me to finish it. I just looked at her and she scrunched her nose at me slightly before turning to T’Challa.

“I’m Lisa,” she said and her smile was a bit wider than normal. “And you are?”

“You know what, Lisa,” I interjected. “I think I am going to take my break. Thanks for covering!”

I grabbed T’Challa’s hand and tugged him with me, quickly leading him away. I heard Lisa huff as we walked away and knew the rest of my shift was going to be a nightmare. T’Challa let me lead him down a few aisles and to the empty section of the stores. The shelves were lined with cake decorating kits and utensils and was the slowest part of the store at these hours.

“What are you doing here?”

He raised a brow at the sharpness of my words and I sighed.

“Sorry,” I said. “I just mean, I’m surprised you’re showing up on my late shift. I thought you were heading home pretty soon?”

“I am,” he said, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. “That is why I am here.”

He paused to glance around the store than looked back at me.

“Do you enjoy working here?” He asked.

It was only because I couldn’t detect condescension in his tone that I answered honestly.

“It’s a job,” I said. “It helps pay the bills, the people aren’t that bad and my schedule’s flexible.”

“But it’s not your ultimate goal,” he pointed out. “You wanted to make a change in the world, yes?”

I crossed my arms and frowned at him.

“Is this another interview?” I muttered. “I feel like I’ve answered these questions.”

“I am just saying,” he said and seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “That I was surprised that you continued going into work, considering current circumstances.”

I blinked and cocked my head.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked, confused. “I still have to pay bills, you know.”

“What about the mission?” He asked. “Will you expect to return after it?”

“I don’t know.”

“And the summer program? Would you quit then?”

“I don’t know,” I repeated, “I haven’t really thought that far ahead, ok?”

He studied me and I tried not shift under his gaze.

“What?” I asked after a few seconds of silence.

“You would not have to return here, if you did not wish to,” he said.

_What does that mean?_

“What does that mean?” I asked out loud.

“Perhaps there are opportunities elsewhere that would best serve you.”

He said the words with a feigned casualness that had me peering at him. Almost as if he were nervous about saying them to me.

_T’Challa’s never nervous._

It reminded me of the day when I had learned he was a Prince. The same hesitant and self conscious approach, as if he was worried to how I would respond.

“Like what?” I asked, watching him closely.

He held my gaze for a second before he looked away with a shrug.

“Whatever you want.”

It was cute, seeing his open bashfulness and I tried to remember if I had seen it that much when were in school together.  Whether he had opened up that much over time or whether it was something else, I couldn’t be sure.

I kind of liked it. Seeing a hint of his vulnerability was endearing to me and I couldn’t help my smile.

“T,” I said and he looked at me. “Aside from asking about my career goals, did you have another reason for coming to see me?”

He paused and then nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “I wanted to see if you would like to go to dinner.”

“Oh,” I said uncrossing my arms. “Is there an update on the mission?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I just wanted to take you to dinner.”

I blinked at him and felt that familiar warmth in my stomach.

“As friends?”

“If that would make you more comfortable.”

I sighed and rubbed my brows.

“Would you at least explain why you are so resistant?” T’Challa asked.

His voice had gone neutral and I felt a flicker of guilt.

“Now?” I asked, glancing around.

“Would another time be better?”

The words weren’t sarcastic but it had me giving him a look. He returned it and I kissed my teeth.

_Fine._

I did a quick check mentally, noting that there was an influx of people near the register area. No one was near us and would likely overhear.

“I guess I’ve just been so worried about the mission and it’s been kind of busy at work and juggling that with...”

“Come now, Jenna,” T’Challa interrupted mildly. “Do you really think it’s been that long? I can still tell when you’re lying.”

I pressed my lips together and said nothing.

“If we do not stay honest with one another, then what’s the point?”

He was serious. I could feel his frustration and knew that I really had been unfair about everything.

“Ok, I said carefully. “You’re right. I haven’t been my best self around you and I’m sorry.”

It was surreal that he wanted to have this conversation in an arts retail store. But hey, it’s not like my life was conventional anyway.

“When we were in school, things seemed so much easier. It’s like we were in a bubble and we could just be ourselves. I truly felt that way around you....you and Nakia....even though you guys didn’t know what I was. Or at least didn’t know it openly.”

It’s like all the things I had wanted to say were rushing to me, finally getting a release from being pent up so long.

“And when things went down the way they did....I know that it was my fault. No,” I said, when he seemed about to protest. “I have to own up to that. What you did or didn’t do, that’s not really the point. The point is I drew a line and I know now that it wasn’t fair to either of us. But it happened. We all moved on with our lives. I mean...you and Nakia were ended up together anyway, right?”

It had been hinted at, but never confirmed.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“And you love her, don’t you?” I pressed. “So it all worked out in the end. Who knows, you two might end up back together.”

“Jenna...”

“No, you wanted me to be honest, so I am.”

He grew silent and I let out a breath. The dam was broken and I needed to let this out. I needed him to understand.   


“And though the whole ‘let’s be friends thing’ threw me for a fucking loop, I’m not...I won’t be a second choice. I’m not going to be a rebound girl or your ‘what if?’ Relationship. I can’t. My life is too....there’s just....”

I trailed off and swallowed, feeling the shimmer in my eyes, but refusing to let the tears fall.

“I’m matured, I think and I’m a lot more realistic than I was. The relationship I had with you two will always matter to me. And everything that’s happening now between us....it has to stay in that familiar territory. That’s the only realistic way this can pan out. Because when the dust settles, you’ll still need to go back to Wakanda and be King. And that might mean finding a Queen too, I don’t know, but we both know that it’s not going to be me.”

“Why not you?”

I balked at him, my brows raised.

“Are you fucking serious?” I hissed. “Didn’t you hear a word I just said?”

“Yes, you’ve made your position very clear,” T’Challa replied. “But I do not agree. Things have changed, yes, but you still have made many assumptions.”

I planted a fist on my hip and waved my other hand at him.

“Oh really?”

“Yes,” he said, unbothered by my tone. “And by making those assumptions, you’ve missed the important reason why it would work between us.”

“And what’s that?”

“You love me,” he said, and my eyes widened. “And I lov…”

 

I clamped my hand over his mouth, narrowing my eyes at the laughter I could see in his eyes.

 

“Ok, let’s think about this. No one wants to make declarations of love that will likely scar a person for life if they have to take it back later.”

 

T’Challa tugged my hand away from his mouth and shook his head at me.

 

“That is unnecessary,” he said mildly, and I realized he meant my move for quieting him. “And I am aware that this seems sudden to you.”

 

I could feel my heart hammering, making it harder to hear him as it pounded in my ears. I searched his face, both dreading and wanting nothing more in life to hear his next words.

 

“Even before that night, I had been struggling with how I felt with you,” he said, and I swallowed. “It was made even more difficult because I had not grown into who I am today. I thought I had a duty not only to myself, but to you and Nakia as well.”

 

No, I didn’t want to hear this.

 

“T’Challa don’t…”

 

To my great annoyance and slight amusement, he clamped a hand over my mouth, silencing me.

 

“I have made many mistakes,” he continued, as if I had never interrupted, “and most of all was letting you go. But I think that now it was something that was needed in a way. I loved Nakia and that is something that will always be in my heart, friends we may now be.”

  
If I bit him, would that cause an international incident?

 

“But I needed to feel that love and endure what has happened to understand treasure the things that are important to me. Things I have never forgotten, love that never got a chance to grow.”

 

I mean, he’d heal right?

 

My glare must have tipped him off to my thoughts because his lips twitched slightly.

 

“I am sorry, entle, but you must hear this, so you will understand. You know better than anyone that we don’t always understand how we feel, yes?”

  
I hesitated before nodding slowly.

 

“Then you must understand that my affections for you has never waned. I never forgot you, never stopped loving you. I was just in a place where I could not do anything with that love.”

 

I opened my mouth and just as I went to bite down, he pulled his hand away. I stared at him, struck by his words, feeling an anger that I thought had been forgotten.

 

“Well, good for you,” I said and felt the first pinprick of tears. “Glad you got to figure out that your first love didn’t work out and now you get to move onto the next, Your Majesty.”

 

I bit out his title through tears and wiped away the few that spilled.

 

“I told you I don’t want to be a second choice. And that means you can’t just waltz back into my life, drop some declarations of love and how you may consider me as your Qu…”

 

I shook my head, unable to even say that word. T’Challa was gazing at me patiently and all it did was make me angrier.

 

“Cause all that shit doesn’t matter. I loved you, T’Challa. Just you. I haven’t fallen in and out of love with anyone else. I’ve had relationships, sure, but none of the things I felt compared with how I feel about you.”

 

The words were tumbling out now, a dam that had broken of years of anguish and regret and frustration.

 

“I wasn’t stupid then. I knew how you felt about Nakia, knew she was someone important to you. Hell, I knew she loved you too. And it ate me up inside because I cared for you both. The only saving grace was that it was easier to give you up because I didn’t really have a long-standing place in your life.”

 

I remembered we were still in public and stepped towards him and lowered my voice.

 

“And now, you come in, trying to tell me that you’re ready to love me now, too? Fuck you! You can’t just pick and choose when you’re ready to break my heart. You can’t act like all of a sudden you feel the same way that I do. You have no idea how much it….”

 

When my voice broke, he reached for me and drew me into his arms. I wanted to resist him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

 

 

“I am sorry to have caused you so much pain, Jenna,” he murmured and I could hear the sincerity to words. “Truly I am.”

 

I didn’t say anything, focusing on the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart in my ear.

 

“I know I will have to prove how I feel to you,” he said and I blinked in surprise at the determination.

 

I titled my head to look at him and he gently wiped at the tears on my face.

 

“To know how deeply you felt…” his words cut off and he shook his head. “Bast, I hadn’t realized it at the time. If I had known I would have….”

 

“You would have done what you needed to, even if I hadn’t pushed you to,” I said, and he frowned  at me. “It’s ok, T’Challa. I accepted that a long time ago. It’s actually one of the things I love about you. You truly care about your people and you do what’s best for them.”

 

“And what about me?” he muttered, and I raised my brows in surprise. “I am a King, but I am still a man, Jenna. And I have learned that being a good King means I must accept both of these truths.”

 

He cupped my face and I watched the almost plea in his eyes.

 

“I do not consider you to be a second choice,” he said. “My love never went away though I did not allow myself to acknowledge it at the time. That is something I know to be true.”

 

He drew me back into his arms, wrapping me in his embrace.

 

“More than anything, Jenna, I will prove this to you.”

 

I hugged him back, to drained to argue with him anymore. I wanted to believe his words, truly I did, but my heart had been broken before, even by my own doing.

  
Was I willing to let him be the one to do it this time?

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

** Chapter 10  **

“So ya’ll had it out at in the middle of the store?” Nina asked, incredulous.

“It wasn’t in the middle of the store,” I said, dipping my roller in paint. “It was in a corner of the store.”

We had finally gotten around to painting the yellow room and I figured it was as good a time as any to catch Nina up on last night events. She only had a few more weeks before her assignment was over and it was looking like she was going to be the next department head. When she traveled back to New York, her life would be far from the tangles mine had become.

“Whatever,” she huffed, smoothing her own roller along the walls. “The point is you got everything out then.”

“Yeah,” I said and stretched to reach a higher spot.

“And he seemed pretty receptive to it,” she continued. “You guys are going to start seeing each other then?”

I spared her an exasperated look and she raised a brow.

“What?” she demanded. “I thought everything is all out in the open now, so why not?”

“Nina,” I sighed. “It’s complicated. He’s a…”

“A King, yes, we’re all aware,” she said dryly. “Seems like a perk in my book. What’s your next excuse?”

I pursed my lips at her and reached to dip my roller in the tray. I let the excess paint drip off before moving back to the wall.

“Well, there’s the whole past relationship with him and Nakia and I…”

“Wait, hold up,” she said, pausing in her work to look at me. “They dated. As in past tense, not in a relationship anymore, right?”

“Yeah,” I said and began the motions of rolling my roller along the wall. “They didn’t work out though. They’re still close, but he said something about their lives taking them on different paths or something.”

“Ok, so he’s friends with his ex. That’s not that bad. I mean, you’re friends with her too.”

Nina was frowning as she returned to her work, thinking to herself.

“Did she break up with him or what?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “He made it sound like it was a mutual split.”

“Hmm.”

We continued working with only the sound of wet paint sliding along the walls.

“I say just cross that bridge when you come to it,” she said suddenly. “I mean, you said that apparently they’ve been talking about you, right? So she has to know, I guess. Isn’t that what…what was her name say?”

“Shae,” I said. “Her name’s Shae.”

“Right. Sounds like homegirl was on Team Jenna,” she said and spared me a grin. “So what she’s heard must have been good. And she said Nakia wanted to see you too, right?”

I sighed and nodded.

“So…”

“Girl, I don’t know,” I groaned. “This is all so confusing!”

“Only because you’re making it confusing,” she said and tutted. “Always overthinking things.”

I snorted in agreement. Who was she telling?

“Wait,” she said. “Can’t you just sense if he’s telling the truth? I mean, if he was lying or if he wasn’t really feeling what he was saying, you’d know.”

I paused and lowered the roller, but kept my gaze on the wall. I had been making even strokes and the coat was turning out nicely.

“That’s the crazy thing,” I said softly. “I felt he was serious. He didn’t shield it from me. T’Challa truly believes what he’s saying.”

“But…”

She was edging me towards another realization and I spared her a glance.

“It just seems too easy, Nina. I had wanted it for so long and now, he just strolls in and it’s everything I wanted.”

“And that’s a bad thing because?”

I rubbed at a sudden ache in my chest with one hand.

“Because…I don’t know. I guess… I might just be afraid that something good might actually be happening in my life. And let’s say it won’t even be him changing his mind…there’s just so many other factors that can end up ruining this.”

Nina turned and dropped her roller into the tray. She went towards our cellphones on the clean side of the room and reached over to pick my cellphone up. I watched as she brought it over and held it out to me.

“Call him,” she commanded. “Tell him you want to go to dinner. Tonight.”

_Was I not speaking out loud?_

Nina rolled her eyes at my expression.

“What’s our rule, Jenna?”

I furrowed my brows in confusion and she huffed.

“When we need that push to do something with our lives, we got each other. You did it for me when I was applying for my job out in New York and look at me now.”

She pushed the phone into my hands and crossed her arms.

“Now, it’s your turn. Call him up. Don’t worry about what might or might not happen.”

“Nina…”

“Bitch, will you just let yourself be happy, at least once in your life?”

Well, I couldn’t really argue with that.

______________________

“Ah, first off, I just wanted to say, I’m sorry about going in on you like that the other day.”

I was relieved that _Lind’s Diner_ was slow today, with only a few patrons near the front of the diner. T’Challa and I had taken a booth near the back in an attempt at privacy.   


“Don’t apologize for being honest with me, Jenna,” T’Challa replied.

“Still it wasn’t very professional,” I said and he raised a brow. “You know, cause I was technically still on the clock and everything.”

“You didn’t get in trouble did you?” he asked, lifting the laminate menu to peruse the selections.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Luckily, Lisa was kept busy enough that she didn’t come snooping. And I’ve been off since then, so she wasn’t able to pester me about it. If she hasn’t, I’m sure she’ll figure out who you are pretty soon. You’re kind of popular on social media, did you know that?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “Though I have left such matters to my sister, Shuri. I am still not sure if that’s quite the right decision yet.”

The fond exasperation in his tone had me smiling. I reached for my water glass and let my gaze drift out of the window. I had just taken a sip of water when I noticed Jaquim, his arm thrown around a woman I didn’t know. I jerked my gaze away and a few moments later, heard the jingle of the diner’s entryway bell.

“Hey,” I said, catching T’Challa’s attention. “You know what? This is probably a bit…uh…too common for you. We could go somewhere fancier.”

I tried mentally calculating where we could go that would seem fancy to T’Challa and still within my price range.

“Why?” he asked, brows furrowing in confusion. “I don’t have a problem here.”

Jaquim probably hadn’t seen me. I was likely making a big deal out of something minor.

“Yeah, but it’s your last night before you leave, so I’m sure you want to go to a hotter spot.”

“You said this was your favorite diner,” T’Challa pointed out.

“Well, yeah but…”

“Then we’ll eat here,” he said, waving a hand lightly. “If it’s good enough for you then…Ah, I see.”

His gaze had shifted behind me and I knew he had spotted Jaquim. I couldn’t bring myself to see if Jaquim was looking back.

“I’m still rather confused on your relationship with him,” T’Challa mused. “Were you close or not?”

“Why are you asking me that?” I mumbled.

“You seem so eager to keep us apart,” he said simply. “I just want to know why.”

 “He’s just a friend.”

T’Challa gave me a look and I kissed my teeth and looked away.

“A friend with benefits, ok. Happy now?”

“No.”

I glanced back at him, trying to read his expression.

“Don’t tell me your jealous.”

“Maybe.”

I almost laughed. It was absurd. It was also startling how easy it was for him to tell the truth about what he was feeling. Then again, T’Challa had always been direct when he wanted to be.

“Ay. So you still playing pretend, huh?”

I winced and allowed myself to tilt my head to meet Jaquim’s gaze. He smirked at me before turning his attention to T’Challa.

“Hey, King.”

“Jaquim.”

I turned my head, spotting that the woman who had come with Jaquim was waiting back at the counter.

“You’re obviously out on a date,” I said, turning to look at Jaquim. “You don’t want to keep her waiting.”

“Now, shorty’s grandmama makes some bomb ass food,” Jaquim was saying to T’Challa, completely ignoring me. “So, I’d get why you’d show up there. But why you here, King?”

Jaquim glanced back at me, his smirk widening at my glare.

“What, ya’ll on a date?”

“Yes.”

Jaquim blinked at T’Challa’s flat response, his brows raising. He glanced back at me.

“Damn, girl,” he said and let his eyes sweep over me. “Should been hitting you up more, since you out here trapping Kings and shit.”

It was amazing how jealousy could make people turn into assholes. Now, I couldn’t see how I had ever given Jaquim the time of day. I mean, I had been a bit lonely, but damn, I needed to do better.

“Is there something you wanted?”

I glanced over at T’Challa, but his gaze was trained on Jaquim. It was the hint of steel in his voice that had me looking at him closely.

“Just checking in on my girl,” Jaquim said lightly.

“I’m not your girl,” I said firmly.

Jaquim looked at me, his eyes hard. I returned his gaze, letting him read what he needed to.

“It’s like that?” he asked.

“Now it is,” I said calmly. “So go have fun with your new girl and chill out with this shit.”

Jaquim tried to stare me down, his jaw clenching slightly. I could feel his anger and waited for him to make his decision.

“Jaquim, come on,” the woman whined. “I’m hungry.”

He stared at me for a second longer before, kissing his teeth and stepping back. He spared T’Challa a glance.

“Good luck with this one, King,” he said. “She’s a cold one.”

Then he slipped his hands into his pockets and strolled away, turning his attention to the woman who was fussing about something on her phone.

Our booth lapsed into silence and I kept my gaze locked on the view outside the window. The streets were lighted by lampposts and I absently watched a car swerve around a pothole.

“Sorry about the wait, Jenna…oh, hi!”

I let my gaze absently drift to Haley, who had approached and was smiling at T’Challa. His gaze was trained on me and I shook my head slightly before giving my attention to Haley.

“No problem, Haley,” I said. “Can I get my usual?”

“Uh sure,” she said and scribbled it down on her notepad. Her energy was wary and I knew she had picked up on the tension in the booth. “What about you?”

“What is her usual?”

Haley blinked at that and glanced at me for a brief second.

“Oh, she get’s a club sandwich, lightly toasted and only a bit of mayo.”

“I’ll have that then.”

We both stared at him and he raised a brow.

“Uh...yeah, sure thing,” Haley said and made another note. “Just let me know if you guys need anything else?”

As Haley turned with our menus, she gave me an impressed look and I felt my face heat. When she left, I finally let myself return T’Challa’s gaze.

“I’m sorry about earlier.”

“You’ve been apologizing a lot lately,” he remarked lightly.

I shrugged.

“I have a lot to apologize for, I guess.”

“You really don’t.”

I braced my hands on the bench and looked away.

“What can I say that will make you more at ease around me?”

There was a hint of a plea in his question that had my gaze snapping back to him.

“What?” I asked, startled.

T’Challa leaned forward in his seat slightly, his eyes searching my face.

“I don’t want this to be hard for you, Jenna,” he said. “I will be leaving tomorrow morning and I don’t want to leave you with the feeling that you would prefer not to see me again.”

I furrowed my brows at him and shook my head.

“T’Challa…You’re not…It’s not your fault…” I trailed off and pushed out a sigh. “I’d love to see you again.

“Then what’s wrong?”

I raised my brows and nodded back towards where I knew Jaquim and his friend were still sitting. T’Challa raised a brow and then leaned back in his seat.

“That’s all?” he asked and sounded almost relieved.

“That’s…yes, that’s it. That’s the point, T’Challa,” I said. “As much of an asshole that he’s being, Jaquim just represents another part of my life here. I’m not classy or fancy or sophisticated.”

I huffed and shook my head, feeling my frustration with my self grow.

“I’m not…I don’t want to play pretend with you.”

“Pretend?” he asked, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Ok look,” I said and began twirling the straw in my water glass.  “I wanted to go out with you tonight because I really do want to try and be…more than friends.”

The words came out hesitantly, but he simply inclined his head for me to continue.

“And I’m just realizing or no, recognizing, that if we were serious that meant that there are things I want in my future that I would have to consider…”

“Such as?”

I swallowed and glanced towards the kitchen.

_Where was our food?_

“Jenna.”

I sighed and started twirling my straw.

“I want to…I don’t know… get married one day. And I’m thirty two. That’s…I’ve been spending too much time not taking relationships seriously and there’s a whole host of future things I haven’t considered or…”

“I see.”

I glanced up at him hesitantly, but he was rubbing one hand through his beard thoughtfully.

“Then we shouldn’t waste each other’s time then,” he mused.

I felt a knot form in my stomach, but I forced myself to nod.

“Yeah.”

“No more pretending, yes?”

I nodded again, noting that Haley was heading our way with food. I wasn’t sure if I had an appetite anymore.

“Then it’s settled,” T’Challa continued. “You will become my Queen.”

I didn’t get a chance to react properly. Haley arrived at our table with a smile and passed us our plates.

“Here you go,” she said. “Holler if you need something else.”

I waited until she was on earshot before I focused sharply on T’Challa.

“That’s not fucking funny, T’Challa.”

“Yes, it is a rather serious matter.”

I narrowed my eyes but he returned my gaze evenly.

“I’m not kidding.”

“Neither am I.”

He had picked up one his sandwich slices and bit into. He chewed thoughtfully and nodded to himself.

“Hmm. This is rather good.”

I flexed my fingers on the table, staring at him.

“T’Challa.”

He lifted his gaze to meet mine as he bit into his sandwich.

“I am not fucking around right now,” I told him. “This isn’t a game, or a test or a scenario that needs to play out. Neither one of us has thought about this.”

He chewed slowly and only answered when he had swallowed.

“I have thought about this,” he said. “For quite some time actually.”

“Wait, what?”

He didn’t answer and I had to wait impatiently for him to swallow again.

 “Time is interesting, is it not?” he mused. “We often think of it as some linear transition, taking us from one point to the next.”

I blinked, confused by his words.

“What?” I asked, bewildered. “What does this have to do with…”

“Time isn’t linear,” he continued, cutting me off. “Things do change over time, but we are also given the chance to revisit things, to have the same experiences in different circumstances. A second chance if you will.”

“I told you I’m not your second…”

“We are both aware that much has happened since we have last seen one another,” he said, cutting me off again. “For me, time has given me loss.”

Oh, oh right. Shit. I had been so wrapped up in my feelings that I had forgotten. It was selfish to not even consider what T’Challa may have gone through over the years.

“I’m sorry about your father,” I said, feeling contrite. “I knew how close you were to him.”

“He had been a great father,” he said and a look that shifted over his eyes, “but perhaps, not the best King.”

I furrowed my brows, surprised by that admission. T’Challa had always spoken highly of his father, had always seemed determined to live up to his example.

“Time has also shown me,” T’Challa said and there seemed to be a look of determination in his eyes, “that there are many opportunities that we must not waste.”

I still had no idea what he was getting at, but I kept quiet.

“I have not quite told you the story about how I learned about my cousin,” he said. “It was a harsh discovery, to learn about the nature of the death of my uncle. Or the abandonment of my cousin when he was just a boy.”

I raised my brows at that and felt a flurry of questions come to my mind.

“Eat, entle.”

T’Challa gestured to my plate, but I hesitated at the nickname. He simply kept eating and i realized he wouldn’t continue unless I did the same. I sighed and took a bite of my sandwich.

“I will spare you the details for now,” he said, as I chewed. “But I am still coming to terms with the man and King my father was. And the type of King he had wished for me to be.”

T’Challa paused and it was only when I took another bit that he continued.

“I am still conflicted at times and I have done my best to ease this by helping my cousin. Though he may have attempted to overthrow me…”

“What?!”

There was a light lull around the dinner and I felt my face heat at my outburst. T’Challa gave me an amused look and returned to his meal. The volume in the diner returned to normal and I relaxed.

“He tried to overthrow you?” I said, keeping my voice at an indoor level. “Please explain.”

“Not now,” he said and waved away the incredulous look I gave him. “That is not the point I am trying to make.”

“Well, you’re taking your fucking time getting to it.”

He took another bite and just looked at me as he chewed. I rolled my eyes and threw my straw wrapper at him.

“As the King of Wakanda, I must protect and serve my people. But for too long there had been a view of how best to do this. And the consequences were far reaching.”

He shook his head, frowning to himself slightly.

“I do not know if I am a good king, but I do know the type of king I wish to be.”

He wiped his hands with his napkin and then discarded it on the table.

“I am breaking precedent, challenging traditions that have been around since the birth of Wakanda. And there are costs to every decision I make, strategies that must be considered, consequences foreseen as best as they can. I am constantly aware of the duties that have been placed upon my shoulders and the weight they bear.”

I couldn’t look away from the weight of his gaze, transfixed by this side of him. I had a sudden feeling that it was the King that was speaking to me now, an authority who was choosing every word with precise care.

“You were my first glimpse into a world that we had long turn our backs on. It was not your humble beginnings or your struggles that endeared you to me. No, it was your strength and compassion. You were quiet and often attempted to appear removed from things, but there was a passion to you, a fierce desire to make changes in a world that was determined to see you fail. You are intelligent, resourceful and capable of much more than you have allowed yourself to believe.”

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t find a response to his words. T’Challa folded his hands on the table, not letting me look away.

“So when you ask if I am serious about such important decisions as to who I would choose to be my Queen, know that they are not idle considerations. Time may have placed you in circumstances you may not wish to be in, but the essence of who you are has never changed. Life has not been kind to you and yet you still work hard, still fight for those whom you believe cannot fight for themselves. You had said you wanted to teach Wakanda, show us that the world has more to offer than we believed. That this is how we can connect with one another - not by taking but by sharing what we have and learning to understand what we don’t.”

He reached for my hand and rubbed his thumb lightly across my knuckles. He held my gaze as he smiled and inclined his head.

“What better way to do this than by becoming Queen?”

__________________________

I watched the passing scenery on the car ride home, the soft music of drums playing on the radio. It was a Wakandan artist and I had vaguely wondered how he had managed to get them on the radio. Probably a special frequency from Wakanda that only he knew how to tune into.

A light rain had started and I watched the droplets splash against the window, and the faded sounds of water splashing against tires. Cars passed us on the interstate, bright beams of light filling up the car before passing by. I had spoken much since T’Challa’s speech, finally letting myself focus on finishing my meal. I had been trying to come up with a proper response, but I found that I truly had no idea what to say.

T’Challa was right about one thing.

Time is a such an odd social construct. Minutes to hours to day. Days that span into weeks then into months. Then years are going by, so quickly that you don’t recognize how you got from point a to point b. You push back plans, reevaluate steps or stay in the same funk until something happens that shapes up your life. Sometimes it’s as bleak as the death of a parent. Or as uplifting as a new, exciting career opportunity. But whatever it is, it shows that most of the time, people tend to be responsive instead of active in their lives. Most people.

“You’re thinking very loudly.”

I looked over to T’Challa, who met my gaze before returning his eyes to the road. He had been so patient with me and all my expectations or scenarios of how our reunion would be — I would have never guessed it would end up with him basically urging me to be...

I sighed and glanced out the window again. The ride was smooth a testament to the mechanics of a car that was built with Wakandan technology and built with vibranium. How many years would I have to work to even get close to affording this type of car?

“Talk to me, Jenna.”

It was a command or a plea. Just an urging.

“About what?” I asked softly, my eyes following the red tail lights of a passing car.

“Anything.”

Anything? What could I say? He was the eloquent talker, not me.

But there was something about his words that struck me, something that had fuddled all the arguments I had prepared.

“Where I’m from you kind of have to learn to mind your business or you might get dragged into shit you don’t want to be involved in. But when you’re like me and you hear everyday that ‘people just need to be shown a bit of kindness’ well...it’s not that easy.”

“Your grandmother?”

“Yeah,” I said, smiling slightly. “I think my grandmother is one of the few who gets a pass for getting involved in people’s business.”

“She would take people into her home when they came to her. Never turned anyone away.”

I spared him a glance and he inclined his head at me. He was always showing he remembered more than I thought he did.

“Her and my grandfather,” I said, nodding. “Their house was neutral territory. Anything happened you’d come to them and get a free meal and warm bed. It used to annoy me having to share space with strangers sometimes but it did give me practice at shielding.”

I rubbed my thumb down the seat of the seatbelt, thinking.

“But there are some things I just can’t block out. Fear is one of them. It kind of overrides everything and even when I can push it out, recognize that it’s not my own, it still lingers. So when I sense it, I can’t walk away from it, no matter how hard I try to.”

I let my head loll against the headrest, gazing forward without really paying attention to the passing shapes.

“I always have to think about it. I always have to consider what I’d do if someone sees my face, or if they recognize me or if something goes wrong.”

“You’re more open about using your powers,” T’Challa said. It wasn’t a question but I nodded anyway.

“I’m not throwing hands everyday, but yeah, I do step in more than I used to. I don’t know. Sometimes, I just see shit and I’m thinking ‘no one’s going to do anything?’”

I shake my head in disgust and slump into my seat.

“Like, I was walking home from work...actually, it was around the time we started talking again...and I sensed this fear that led me to this woman being attacked by this man. Seems she wasn’t feeling him but he wasn’t getting that message. Or didn’t care. It doesn’t fucking matter. He was threatening her and shit with a gun and she was so afraid. I could feel it, like this weight in my stomach. But my first thought was to think about all the risks of stepping in and helping her. It wasn’t even whether or not I’d get hurt, it was whether I’d get caught. The guy had a gun and didn’t seem to have a problem using it. And if she were to freak out or whatever, then it’d turn into a huge fucking mess.”

T’Challa inclined his head to show he was listening and I continued.

“But I always have to take that risk,” I said. “I feel like I shouldn’t have to. It’s like I’m being punished for wanting to do the right thing. That I have to hide who I am and that might mean turning away if someone gets hurt. Sometimes people don’t want your help or they end up hating you more than the person who was hurting them.”

I let out a frustrated sigh.

“At least, that time, when it was all over, the woman...she wasn’t afraid of me. I mean, at the most, I’ve gotten a quick thank you before before they ran off, but most people don’t stick around long enough. But she just...followed me after that. And she had seen me use my powers and knew what I could do.”

“Some people are able to understand who the truly dangerous people are,” T’Challa said. “And it is not always who were are taught to believe.”

I tilted my head to study him. The lights flickered across his face and I could see his thoughtful expression.

“You don’t think I’m dangerous?” I asked softly.

Brown eyes drifted to meet mine and he quirked his lips slightly.

“Only if you want to be.”

“But I don’t scare you?” I asked, searching his face closely.

He was still open to me, his sincerity and thoughtfulness something that came off of him easily.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why should I be?” he asked, letting his gaze return to the road. “I know who you are. You would not use your powers to hurt someone if you felt it wasn’t needed.”

I curled my hands in my lap.

“I’m not always in control of them,” I said. “It’s not...I’m still learning to use them.”

“We all make mistakes as we grow,” T’Challa said lightly. “Why should you not be afforded the same understanding?”

_It’d be so fucking easy to be with him._

“How can you be...ugh. How are you so understanding?”

T’Challa grinned and shook his head.

“That is a bad thing?” He teased.

“No,” I sighed. “It just makes it hard to argue with you sometimes.”

“Ah. Then I shall try to be a bit more disagreeable if that helps.”

“Smart ass,” I muttered and he chuckled.

He had pulled off the interstate and was taking the streets toward my house. I felt a sudden flutter of anxiousness as I remembered that he would be leaving out tomorrow. I felt like I was squandering my chance to reconnect with him.

_Not just to reconnect._

And there it was again. Another reminder that I had a choice to make and if I bailed on it again, I might not get it back. I had told T’Challa I didn’t want to be his second _choice_ but I had never considered that this might actually be our second chance.

I watched as we rolled up to my grandmother’s house and noted that the living room light was still on. Most likely my grandmother was watching Jeopardy again and had fallen asleep. Nina’s light was on in the guest bedroom too and I could sense her neutral energy. Some people simply rested in that - not quite feeling anything without being unhappy. It’s an underrated state of mind.

I turned to look at T’Challa, his face made visible by the streetlight we were parked under.

“T, I...”

The words trailed off and I had to take a breath to catch my nerve again.

“The whole point of that story is...I guess you’re right. I’m not where I want to be in my life. I don’t...I never had high aspirations or even a clear career goal or anything. I just knew...I knew I wanted to help people. Like really help them. I wanted to represent something to people who felt they were alone in this world. I know what that’s like, know how lonely it can be when you think you’re the only one who’s like you.”

I unbuckled my seatbelt and shifted so I was facing him more fully.

“And it’s hard because I don’t know what I’m doing half the time. I got the degree and the experience, but then what? And the only thing that I feel is an advantage to me is the same thing that makes me sneak around helping in the shadows because I know people are afraid of me. I feel like I’m fighting every day of my life and I’m so tired of it.”

He was listening intently, his body angled towards me as he rested one of his hands close to my thigh. It wasn’t quite touching, but I was aware it was there.

“And I just...I’ve always wanted someone who got it. Who understood that the world was made up of more than just profits and power. I didn’t even know about Wakanda like that when I met you, but you always seemed able to get where I was coming from. Which, all things considering is both confusing and makes sense, but that’s not really the point right now.”

A small tilt of his lips was the only indication he thought that was amusing, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I had to learn really quickly that you have to be careful about the people you trust and who you think has your back. It’s why Nina is my only real friend. It’s why I’m only close to my grandmother. It’s why you and Nakia meant so much to me. I’ve been stuck in this place of wanting to see the best in people but realizing that the some people really ain’t shit. And even if they think they’re doing what’s best for you...sometimes they end up being selfish anyway.”

My mind briefly went to my mother, but I refused to let it stay there.

“I don’t know what it must be like for you as King. I can only imagine how careful you are about the people around you. You have to be. And shit...it just blows my fucking mind that you’ve considered us...”

I trailed off and shook my head, tugging one hand absently at my locks. T’Challa continued to watch me, still patiently waiting as I let out my thoughts.

“Look, I’m not saying I’m the best choice. I’m not even saying I’m considering it because my mind really can’t wrap around it right now. All I know is that...I’ve spent so much of my life being afraid of what others thought about me and fighting against that fear and hating the whole fucking cycle. I’ve worked my ass off and done my best to make my grandmother proud. I’ve tried becoming someone that would prove what people think about me or people like me wrong. It’s taken me a while that I can’t live my life for that purpose anymore. I want to become someone for myself, not anyone else. I want to be with someone who will let me make mistakes and...try to be better and who I can help too. I just...”

I trailed off, feeling the tangle of emotions flittering through me. Anxiety, fear, frustration. But the strongest one was hope. I hadn’t felt it so strongly in a long time. I didn’t know how to convey them to him, didn’t know how to help him understand what I wanted.

_There’s one way._

I stared at him, seeing him watch me carefully, dark brown eyes peering into mine. My eyes drifted to his full lips and I decided I might as well try. T’Challa didn’t pull away when I reached for him and let me tug him forward by his jacket. I leaned my head forward and kissed, feeling a sudden wave of relief as his soft lips met mine. I had meant to kiss him slowly, easing him into the connection, but as soon as we connected, it was like everything came bursting through.

He parted my lips, his tongue sweeping in to taste me. I moaned softly and his hand reached up to cup the back of my neck. He slanted his lips along mine, our tongues dueling for dominance. His beard tickled my face, but I didn’t mind the extra stimulation and leaned further into the kiss. And I felt him, his energy sliding along mine, enhancing the kiss to something beyond our physical embrace. It was something I had never experienced and was stronger than the last time he had kissed me, so long ago.

And just like then, our emotions tumbled together. Desire, frustration, confusion, and a spark of something that had my breath hitching. I clung to him, trying to delve deeper, desperately trying to seek if what I was feeling was his or mine.

It was only when my lungs began to burn did I have to tilt my face away and take in air. He brushed his lips along my jaw and back over my lips again, pressing lightly. Then he kissed the tip of my nose and stroked his fingers down my cheek.

“I understand.”

I blinked at him in confusion, knowing that I hadn’t spoken out loud. T’Challa smiled and gave me another light peck on the lips.

“I felt you, entle,” he explained gently. “I know what you feel. It was a rather curious experience.”

“Oh,” I said and rubbed my fingers along the hand that cupped my face. “I wasn’t...I’ve never tried that before, so I wasn’t sure if you’d recognize what I was doing.”

“It happened that night though,” he pointed out. I shook my head.

“That was on accident,” I said. “I didn’t mean to do it but you caught me off guard. I’ve never had that experience with anyone else.”

“Oh?”

I found myself grinning at the almost smugness in his casual tone.

_Men._

“Yes, just you.”

He returned my smile and pulled me into another kiss. It was deep one though it didn’t last as long.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he murmured, brushing his thumb lightly along my bottom lip.

  _You and me both._

His smile grew and I let out a shaky breath.

“I’ll try,” I said softly. “But if we don’t….if this doesn’t work out, just promise me one thing.”

“Yes?”

“That we won’t stop being friends again.”

T’Challa’s smile grew gentle and he cupped my face, ensuring that I wouldn’t look away.

“I give you my word, Jenna. You will always have a place in my life.”

I couldn’t help the sudden welling of tears in my eyes but I managed a smile.

“You’re so corny.”

His laughter filled the car and I held onto the hope that I would hear it more often. 


	11. Chapter 11

** Chapter 11 **

****

“I think someone’s following me,” I said, shifting my cell phone to the other ear. “Well two people I think.”

 

“How long?” T’Challa asked.

 

I smiled, pleased that he didn’t doubt me.

 

“For a few days after you left,” I said. “I noticed the same energy signatures hanging around outside work and then they started following me. I put them off by just going to random places until I noticed they were gone.”

 

“You haven’t sensed them following you home yet?”

 

“No. Not yet.”

 

“You did well, entle,” he praised. “But we may have to change our strategy. I had hoped it would not come to this, but it appears N’Jadaka’s interrogation was as precise as he claimed.”

 

“You knew someone might find me?” I said, my tone not quiet accusing.

 

“We were not sure, but it was a risk,” he said appeasingly. “I had ensured your home was being watched for your grandmother’s sake. I knew you’d be aware enough to pick up anything my people had missed.”

 

“So you knew I could take care myself but had backup just in case?”

 

“Yes,” he said quickly. “Of course.”

 

“Uh huh,” I said, not buying it. “Nice try T. You promised.”

 

There was a pause and then he sighed.

 

“I know. It is…this is an adjustment for me. I have often found it best to keep my thoughts to myself until sharing is a necessity.”

 

“Well,” I said. “If we’re going to do this whole dating thing, you’re going to have to be more open with me. Just to remind you, I’m not a telepath. You have to confide in someone, right?”

  
“Say that again.”

 

“What? That you need someone to confide in?”

 

“No,” he said, and his voice had deepened slightly. “Before that.”

 

Oh.

 

“That we’re dating?” I asked and couldn’t help the small smile. 

 

T’Challa’s enthusiasm had a way of being infectious. It was still startling, realizing that he seemed genuinely interested in wanting to have a romantic relationship with me. I had asked that he kept it between us for now and while he hadn’t been too happy about it, he understood that I had a lot of…well, baggage when it came to commitments. So, for him, it seemed me saying the words out loud was like a triumph.

“Yes,” he said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “It is so good to hear you say it.”

 

I rolled my eyes, but my grin grew.

 

“It’s only been a few days since we decided to…”

 

“Be more than friends?” he prompted, sounding amused.

 

“Yeah,” I said.

 

“I am still not clear on your reluctance on acknowledging our relationship.”

 

I sighed, picking up on how his tone had shifted. It was a relief that I was still able to pick up on the subtle nuances of T’Challa’s tone.

  
“It’s not that I’m ashamed to be with you,” I said, reassuringly. “Seriously, I’m still shocked you want to...”

 

“Jenna.”

 

“Right, well, aside from that. You’re a public figure and I’m an extremely private person. Is it so bad that I want to keep what we have between us, until we know for sure whether this actually going to work out?”

 

He didn’t say anything for a moment and I bit my lip. I wish I had the confidence he did when it came to our relationship. I wanted more than anything to believe that we would stay together, but there were doubts lingering in the back of my mind, remnants of my past and the conditionings of society. It was fucked up and it pissed me off that I had them, but they were there.

 

“T?” I asked, hesitantly. “Are you mad?”

 

A beat passed before he answered.

 

“No,” he said slowly. “I was just thinking that perhaps I shouldn’t have left so soon.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I have not had many opportunities to court you properly,” he said. “And when I see you again the time will not be the most opportune to do it then.”

 

“Oh,” I said. “Well long distance is possible. I mean I’m not as clingy as I used to be.”

 

“Clingy?”

 

“Yeah,” I said, feeling the warmth in my cheeks. “I kind of...well, you know. I was always trying to see if you wanted to hang out or come over. We almost spent every day together.”

 

“I didn’t have any complaints,” he said simply. “In fact, I preferred your place. You used to make those interesting noodle dishes.”

 

A burst of laughter escaped me at his words.

 

“T, that was just ramen noodle dishes that I made up! Shit, I was embarrassed that I still remembered them from college.”

He chuckled, joining in with my laughter.

 

“I still enjoyed them, even though they were basic.”

 

I let out an outraged gasp, though it was ruined by the laughter that leaked through.

 

“Basic? Nigga, where’d you learn that from?”

 

“My cousin may have had some influence,” he said casually. “Though it seems to exasperate him when I use such phrases incorrectly.”

 

“Because you do it on purpose?”

 

“Of course.”

 

I laughed again and shook my head.

 

“It is good to hear you laugh,” he said. “I have missed the sound.”

 

I felt my body warm at the pleasure at his voice. How could he infect me with just the sound of his voice?

 

“You seemed to have missed me a lot?” I questioned.

 

“More than you seem to believe,” he said. “Nakia has as well.”

 

It was the first time he mentioned her without my prompting. He seemed to still be assessing how I felt about seeing her again. Hell, so was I.

 

“I’ve missed you guys too,” I said, knowing that to at least to be true. I waited a beat, before finding my nerve. “Have you told her about us?”

 

“She is aware.”

 

No inflection, just a statement of fact.

 

“And?”

 

“Ah...she knew what my intentions were before I came to see you.”

  
“What?” I asked, startled. That was news to me.

 

“I wanted to ensure she was...well, given the circumstances of our relationship, all three of us, I wanted to...”

 

His hesitation was cute. It was nice to know there were topics that also ruffled him.  

 

“You wanted to make sure she was cool with it?”

 

“Yes,” he said, sounding relieved that I had helped.

 

“And she _is_ okay with it?”

 

“She actually encouraged me to reach out to you,” he said. “She claimed remembering how close we were and said she wished me to find happiness as she has found hers.”

 

“Really?” I asked, not sure if I sounded disbelieving or astonished.

 

I could name on one hand couples I knew who had split with such reasonable understanding. The ability to have realistic and honest relationships, even with ex’s, was something I had never heard of. Which I guess was pretty sad if I thought about it.

 

“Yes.”

 

There was that lack of inflection again. He was letting me come to terms with what I thought on my own. I sighed, still feeling like a flicker of something that I couldn’t understand.

  
“Well, that’s very mature of both of you,” I said. “You guys always seemed to mesh well. Nice to hear that hasn’t changed.”

 

I didn’t mean for it come out sounding as bitchy as it came out. Really, I didn’t. I don’t think I did. But I did know T’Challa sensed something in my tone because he stayed quiet.

 

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I... didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I... I’m nervous about seeing her again. And us...trying to...I mean being together is.... things aren’t like they were before and I know it’s unrealistic that they would be and I don’t want everything to be the same but....”

 

“We are all in new territory,” T’Challa interrupted gently. “And there is...an adjustment period for all of us. But we have to trust in each other in our efforts to make it work.”

 

“I know,” I said and sighed. “I’m trying...I know I’m not....it doesn’t seem like it and...”

 

“I know, entle,” he said gently. “I know.”

 

We may not have seen one another since he left but T’Challa had called almost every day if he could. His early mornings were my late nights and we had many conversations, eager to catch up on one another’s lives. I learned the details about his cousin’s attempt to overthrow him, a shakeup that had T’Challa taking deep looks into his life and the legacies of his father and the Kings before him. He admitted that his shift of opening Wakanda to the world, even in such small steps, was prompted not just by his cousin, but Nakia as well. She hadn’t changed in the sense that she still believed that there was more that could be done help those who needed it. And though T’Challa’s cousin had not gone about it in the proper way, T’Challa claimed that it opened his eyes that pain could far reaching - even touching the once thought to be immune Wakanda.

 

The passion in his voice, almost hinting at a pain of his own, had shown me that time had not left T’Challa unscathed. And I reflected on the stories he told me, of how he had witnessed what had led to the rendered relationship of the Avengers, how he had almost killed the wrong man on his own quest for vengeance. How he had seen the pain shape others and had refused to let it shape him in the same way. Perhaps it was why he had been so determined to save his cousin, despite the fact that he had tried to kill him and take over the throne.

 

And I had been happy to listen, happy to hear him open up to me, relieved that he could still do so after all this time. It made it easier for me to reciprocate, believing that if he could share as much with me, I could be honest with him about my life, as uneventful as it was in comparison. But he always listened attentively, never sounding bored or forced in his engagement.

 

I was going to say something, but I felt the twinge of two familiar energy signatures.

 

“Shit,” I muttered.

 

“What is it?”

 

“It’s those energies again,” I sighed. “Damn it, I should just...”

 

“Leave them be, Jenna,” T’Challa said firmly. “Where are you?”

 

“At a bookstore before my shift starts. I was hoping to get a Xhosa language dictionary.”

 

T’Challa pushed out an irritated sigh.

 

“They are learning your patterns,” he muttered.

 

“Yeah,” I said. “They’ve gotten a lot more consistent and tend to follow me longer. By the way, Xhosa dictionaries are a lot harder to find than I thought. And then I was thinking, are there Wakandan dialects that I could learn?”

 

“Yes, but,” T’Challa said, “Jenna, this may not be the best time for this.”

 

“I know,” I said casually. “Would you rather I freak out about having people follow me as I wonder how long it’ll take for them to find my home and possibly, most likely, hurt my grandmother and best friend?”

 

“No,” T’Challa sighed. “I suppose not. What do they look like?”

 

“I don’t know,” I said. “I recognize their energy signatures but they keep themselves hidden. It’d be too obvious if I tried looking for them.”

 

T’Challa lapsed into silence and I absently rubbed at the spine of one of the books in front of me.

 

“We were already planning to come tomorrow,” T’Challa said. “The timing will have to be precise but we may manage to take them off your trial, for your grandmother and Nina’s sake. But we don’t want them to know we are aware of what they are doing. Our prisoners mentioned they had a fallback plan to send in another group if the first proved unsuccessful. These may be the scouts sent to track you more closely than the first and develop a better plan for an attempt at capture.”

 

I knew he was thinking out loud and didn’t bother responding.

 

“We don’t want them to know my involvement as well. We were lucky that they weren’t able to communicate before we captured them.”

 

“They think I just got away?” I asked surprised. “I mean if they did, why would they come after me again.”

 

“Many reasons are possible but the most likely is that they are checking on the whereabouts of their comrades and will likely attempt to capture you again. This was poor foresight on my part. I should haven’t left you alone.”

 

The anger in his voice made his words come out harsh, but it was apparent it was directed at him.

 

“It’s ok,” I said, keeping my tone light. “You can’t plan for everything, T. And they haven’t done anything yet.”

 

My words were met with silence and I could sense his frustration.

 

“It’s really sweet how much you care about me,” I said, truly meaning it. “But that being said, don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m a big girl I can take care of myself.”

 

“Have you continued your training?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He chuckled at my petulant tone. Of course, I had kept practicing, though it felt almost useless without having my two strict teachers training me. T’Challa had given me access to the gym so I at least had a new place to practice my powers without being observed.  

 

“They’re not moving, T’Challa,” I said. “And from what I can tell, they’ve found their watch point. It’s the first time they’ stayed this still. I’ve got an advantage and I can just…”

 

“No, Jenna.”

 

“But they’re right there and I’m prepared this time and…”

 

“I said no.”

 

I pressed my lips together, put off by the command in his tone. And, a small part still found it extremely sexy. But mostly annoying.

 

“I’ve been taking care of myself before you came along you know,” I huffed. “I’ve rescued a few people too. I can take two of them.”

 

“Jenna,” he said, his tone patient. “Do not engage them. Go to work, pretend as if everything is normal. Let them see you going about your business, that you are not aware of them. They may be more prepared this time and have eyes where you cannot sense them.”

 

“I can sense anyone as long as they are alive.”

 

“Do your abilities extend to sense others who are not in your near vicinity? And if you could stretch out so far, how would you know who to look for? How are you sure they are the only ones who are tracking you?” 

 

I scowled at the shelves of books in front of me and said nothing.

 

“And perhaps they are better prepared. They had guesses at your abilities but if they are more cautious they are more dangerous. Could you subdue them without bringing attention to yourself?”

 

“You made your point,” I said, my tone clipped. “I’ll leave it alone.”

 

“I am not trying to insult you, entle,” T’Challa said soothingly. “I just want you to be more cautious. There are times when it is best to observe than it is to engage.”

 

I let out a long, pointed sigh.

 

“Ugh, fine. This whole waiting shit is making me antsy. I’m tired of these bastards fucking with me, T.”

 

“As am I,” he said lowly. “As am I.”

 

The edge in his voice made me feel better. I was pissed, but there was comfort in knowing T’Challa was as well.

 

And you didn’t want to fuck with the King of Wakanda.

 

_______________________

 

“Well, hon, I don’t know why you have to leave so soon,” my grandmother fussed. “I’m excited you’re going, I just suppose I had more time.”

 

I propped my head into her lap, relaxing at the feel of her fingers gently untangling my locks and soothingly rubbing my scalp. Sitting on the couch, I was able to lay comfortably, propped on my side as we absently watched Family Feud.

 

“It’s an orientation, grandma,” I said, yawning. “It’s to allow us time to get more information for how the program will go before we fly out. I’ll still be in town to check in on you, but I might be too busy to make it home.”

 

It was easier to give her partial truths. I was leaving tomorrow to relocate to Akua’s as the mission “headquarters’ and would likely be going to Wakanda right after if everything well. Just like that, I was dreaming about a place that was just right there –with someone who I had never thought I’d be with.

 

My grandmother hummed and scratched gently at the back of my head. It felt good, and I titled my head so she could scratch lower. A soft purring noise caught my attention and I titled my head to see where Nina was resting in an opposite armchair, Chester curled in her lap. She absently scratched at one ear and his whiskers twitched as he burrowed his face in my paws.

  
I guess I was always going to be the one he didn’t care to have touch him too long. He had even warmed up to T’Challa during one of his visits and he had pointed out that perhaps Chester could sense my heightened energy signature. I think the bastard just had a weird resentment against me. A yellow eye squinted open to peer at me and I stuck my tongue out at him. I was currently taking his favorite spot, using my grandmother’s lap as a pillow, and I’m sure that’s where the resentment started. His pink nose twitched and he made a show of rolling over to give me his back.

 

_Point for me, cat._

 

“I’m excited for you, hon,” my grandmother said. “Oh and it’s just going to be so wonderful for you. Trying new things, dating a King…if your grandfather could see you now!”

 

I sniffed and pushed myself into a seating position and swept my locs over one shoulder.

 

“My success in life isn’t based on who I’m dating.”

 

“Of course not,” she said, patting my knee. “But if it’ll give you some joy in life, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

 

“That’s what I said,” Nina sang lightly. “I’m telling you Miss Genine, this one is determined to be miserable.”

 

I had moved to head for bed and as I passed I tapped Nina on the back of the neck with one glowing finger. She yelped and jerked away.

 

“Damn it, Jenna,” she said, landing a harsh slap on my leg. “That hurt!”

 

Her jerky movements stirred Chester who hopped off her lap in indignant anger. He swept slitted eyes at us before padding towards my grandmother and resettling in her lap. My grandmother shook her head at both of us and petted Chester soothingly.

 

“Don’t fuss, you two,” she scolded gently. “Jenna, you’ll be leaving and who knows when you’ll see Nina again?”

 

We both paused and looked at one another. She couldn’t understand the weight of her words, the ominous undertone to them. If the mission went south and I got taken….

 

Nina’s eyes searched my face and I could feel the wave of her anxiety, strong enough that I had to tighten my shields from it. I reached a hand and pressed a bit of calm into her, drawn from the assuredness that T’Challa had conveyed to me. He promised he’d make sure I’d be safe and I believed him. Nina’s anxiety ebbed and she relaxed under my touch.

 

“I’m going to bed,” I said and pulled my hand from her. “You two don’t stay up too late, ok?”

 

My grandmother tutted at that, amused. She’d probably be out in the next thirty minutes. Nina inclined her head and me and gave me a grateful smile. Her only allowance of emotional manipulation was calm – if it helped ease her anxiety, she welcomed it. I knew she wasn’t offended by me offering it to her without asking.

 

“I’ll help her to bed,” she said and I nodded in thanks. “Get some rest, ok?”

 

“Yeah,” I said, understanding the meaning in her words.

 

____________________________

 

The time went by quicker than I wanted to the next day. T’Challa texted me when he made landfall and gave me a timeline for when I would be picked up to be transported to Akua’s place.

 

It seemed I was going to be meeting T’Challa’s cousin and I wasn’t sure if how I felt about that.

 

“He has changed, entle,” T’Challa said reassuringly.

 

“He tried to kill you, T’Challa,” I said. “You don’t just forget shit like that.”

 

“No, you don’t,” he agreed. “But it has been a few years since that has happened. N’Jadaka is becoming who he wishes to be and for that, I must forgive the past so he can build his future. I trust N’Jadaka.”

 

“You are way too trusting.”

 

“Hmm. He has said the same thing,” he said thoughtfully. “Please, entle, for me….do not hold his past mistakes against him.”

 

“Fine,” I sighed. “So is he Mr. Nice now?”

 

“I…wouldn’t say that,” T’Challa said, haltingly. “He is…Well. You will meet him and find out for yourself.”

I hmphed and he chuckled lightly.

 

Waiting made me restless. Once I got off the phone, I found there wasn’t much I could do. I had already packed, had already cleaned up my room, had tried occupying my time by watching television with Nina and my grandmother. Dinner and good food helped to distract me, too eager to taste the flavor’s of my grandmother’s farewell meal to let myself dwell in my impatient mood.

 

“I’m going to be volunteering at the community center every other Thursday,” my grandmother said as she passed me my plate. “Mrs. Renaldo, from church, mentioned that she wanted to start some baking classes and I figured might as well. You shouldn’t be the only one to get out the house.”

 

“That’s great, grandma!” I said, pleased to hear this news. “Are they going to send someone to pick you up?”

 

“Yes, there’s this shuttle that they can send out to get me if I sign up in time every week. If you don’t mind, I was going to ask Andy across the street to use your car on days to take me grocery shopping.”

 

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” I said. “Andy’s a good kid, but don’t let him talk you into those pyramid schemes he be throwing out.”

 

Nina and I grinned at each other, remembering the more humorous sales pitches on the most ridiculous products.

 

“I know, bless his heart,” my grandmother sighed. “And Nina, when are you heading home again?”

 

“About three weeks, Miss Genine,” Nina said, pausing to take a bite of greens. “I need to head back sooner for the transition to my new position.”

 

My grandmother clapped her hands together, pure delight radiating off her. Her gaze swept over us, tears shimmering in her eyes.

 

“I am truly blessed,” she said, her voice catching slightly. “To have you two lovely women…Oh…it just warms my heart to see you two taking off and…”

 

She paused and took a breath to steady herself.

 

“I know life isn’t always what we want it to be. And it’s going to be hard sometimes, longer than you think it should.  I’m proud of both of you and I want you to know that whatever path you two take give it your all, so no one can ever tell you, you haven’t done your best. And if it ain’t your best, do what you can. Sometimes that’s just enough.”

 

She reached out to grasp both our hands and gave them a squeeze.  

 

“Don’t be afraid of what may come. Just have faith. And remember…”

 

“You can always find a home here,” we finished, our own voices soft with emotion.

 

“That’s right,” my grandmother said smiling. “That won’t ever change.”

 

My grandmother, a healer and caretaker, a fierce fighter with a strong sense of calm and dedication…I would do my best to see her again. I spared Nina a glance, who had her own tears shimmering in her eyes. She gave me a small smile and I knew she felt the same way.

 

______________________

 

It’s always interesting, when you have an image of how you think a person’s going to look before you meet them. I didn’t really have a clear picture of what I though T’Challa’s cousin would look like, but when I opened my door at nearly 2:00am in the morning, I wasn’t expecting the man who stood on my grandmother’s porch.

 

Erik Stevens was tall, broad and…goddamnit he was fine as hell too. Brown skin, dreads braided back from his face, full lips, trimmed beard…Jesus, what were the men in Wakanda made of? Or was it just the royal family?

 

He was dressed simply, wearing only a pair of dark blue jeans, a black hoodie and sneakers. Even with baggy material of his hoodie, there no way he could hide the broadness of his shoulders underneath. I must have been staring too long, because he smirked and I saw a flash of gold slugs in his lower canines.

 

He looked like the type that girls would rip each other apart just to get at. I had seen some fuckbois before.... but none on this nigga´s level, I could tell that much just from one look. Jaquim would be furious.

 

“So you’re the cousin?” I demanded, eying him. That wasn’t mean, right?

 

His energy was neutral, an unobtrusive and collected feeling that gave nothing away. It held a stronger pulse, close too, but not quite like T’Challa’s. Interesting.

 

“So you T’s girl?”  he retorted back.

 

He eyes swept over me, doing a quick assessment. It was a calculated review, taking me in, sizing me up.

 

“I guess so,” I said and shifted to peer at the man behind him. “And you are?”

 

He wasn’t Wakandan, I knew that by his energy signature. He was the same height as Erik, muscular though not as broad and dressed just as casually. Only he wore a black zipper hoodie, the sleeves pushed back to show off defined forearms. He slipped his hands into his pockets and grinned at me. He was handsome too and I wondered at the types of reaction these two must get when strolling into a club.

 

“Charlie.”

 

“You’re American,” I said, not posing it as a question.

 

“Yep.”

  
“Ay, you gonna let us in or what?”

 

I let my gaze drift back to Erik and nodded before taking a step back. They slipped in quietly and Charlie moved instantly to my suitcase that I had packed and waiting near the door. I watched as he grabbed my bags and headed back out the door. When I glanced back at Erik, he was watching me, dark eyes meeting mine unflinchingly.

 

“What?” I asked, crossing my arms. I wasn’t a fan of being stared at.

 

He simply inclined his head, smirking to himself.

 

“Nothing.”

 

I resisted the urge to scowl at his casual response and tried something instead.

 

“Aren’t you a little dressed down for the occasion?” I prompted. “I mean shouldn’t you be wearing gear or something?”

 

Erik was taking in the room, his posture relaxed and casual as he leaned against the wall.

 

“Sure, ain’t nothing suspicious about niggas showing up to your place strapped, huh?” he asked sarcastically.

 

This time I did scowl at him, but his eyes were trained a small figure moving in the shadows. Chester stepped into the hallway light, yellow eyes trained on Erik. He sat and let his tail flick around to wrap around his front paws.

 

“Well, excuse me,” I muttered. “I’m new to this whole spy stuff, you know.”

 

“Obviously.”

 

I felt myself twitch and pushed out a breath.

“Do you have a problem with me?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.

 

“Nah, he’s just like that.”

 

Charlie stepped back into the hallway and flashed me a grin. I glanced at Erik who had returned his gaze to me, his expression still neutral.

 

“Right,” I said.

 

“Jenna?”

 

The quiet call had my attention shifting to the stairs, spotting Nina ash she quietly padded down. When she reached the bottom step, Chester trotted towards her and began purring and weaving between her legs. But Nina’s attention was trained on Erik.

 

“Goddamn,” she said appreciatively and he raised a brow. “Who’s he?”

 

“This is Erik,” I said and waved between. “Erik, Nina.”

 

“Sup.”

 

She raised her brows and let her eyes sweep over him.

 

“You’re T’Challa’s cousin?” she questioned. “A Prince of Wakanda?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

There was a slight edge to his voice and I remembered his touchy background. I felt it really wasn’t my place to tell Nina that.

 

“Huh,” she said and titled her head. “Damn, that means you’re not single.”

 

“Nina!”

 

“What?” she demanded. “He’s fine and just because you’re not single anymore doesn’t mean I have to be. Shae’s a lucky girl.”

 

Erik looked at me and I shrugged.

 

“What? Shae’s sweet, of course I talked about her.”

 

It was interesting, seeing his eyes soften slightly at her name. I hadn’t texted Shae as much as I’d like, but she was always urging me to ask her about anything. I was getting the feeling that Nina was right and Shae seemed to favor me and T’Challa being together. I hoped to meet her one day and ask what she had heard about me.

 

“And who are you?” Nina asked, her eyes spotting Charlie. She gave him the same appreciative glance she gave Erik and his lips twitched.

 

“Charlie.”

 

“So, you’re her bodyguard too?” Nina demanded, crossing her arms. “You don’t look like you’ve got anything on you.”

 

I slid a glance to Erik, giving him a pointed look.

 

_See? My question wasn’t that unreasonable._

He simply rolled his eyes and shook his head lightly.

 

“Not trying to be noticed, ma,” Charlie said simply. “Running around with our gear on, someone’s going to know somethings up and you don’t know who’s watching.”

 

Well, that was a much better explanation than Erik’s sarcastic and evasive responses.

 

_Point for Charlie._

“Huh,” Nina said and shrugged. “I guess that makes sense.”

 

She paused for a second and then cocked her head.

 

“You single?” she asked boldly.

 

“Yeah,” Charlie said, smirking slightly.

 

This time, both Erik and I rolled our eyes. Erik turned and punched Charlie lightly on the shoulder.

 

“Let’s go,” Erik said and nodded towards me. “Do what you need to.”

 

It was time then. I nodded and they left, leaving me alone with Nina. She squatted down to scoop up Chester, who settled into her arms.

 

“You’re going to have to handle the litter while I’m gone,” I told her and she sighed.

 

“Yeah, I know,” she muttered. “Your grandmother knows that he’s pretty much domesticated at this point, right?”

 

“Yeah, I think that was her plan.”

 

It was easier to talk about mundane things than to focus on what was ahead. My life was changing, had changed, so quickly and I felt like I could barely keep up. And Nina, who had been such a constant in my life, wasn’t going to be there. At least not like she had been. Nina’s eyes searched my face and then she pulled me into a one sided hug. Chester wiggled as she squeezed me to her side, but didn’t jump down.

 

 “Don’t you fucking die,” she whispered into my ear. “And don’t fuck it up with T’Challa, ok? You two just found each other again.”

 

I didn’t say anything but I gave her a gentle squeeze to let her know I understood. When she stepped back, I kept a hand on her wrist, intent on pushing calm into her. She patted my wrist and shook her head.

 

“I’m good,” she said softly.

 

“You sure?”

 

She nodded and gave me a smile. I gave her wrist one last squeeze before letting her go. I glanced up the stairs, sensing my grandmother’s neutral energy as she slept peacefully. I wanted to tell her everything. What I was about to do, what might happen, how afraid I was.  But I wasn’t that selfish. I wouldn’t put that stress on her and wouldn’t leave her with worry instead of her joy at the shift in my life.

 

“She’ll be ok,” Nina said, guessing at my hesitation. “I’ll look out for her. And if you’re abroad when I leave, I’ll make sure to check in for you if you can’t.”

 

“Thanks, Nina.”

 

“Not a thing,” she said, waving a hand. “Just go kick some ass and then you can tell her about it later.”

 

“She’ll still be pissed,” I pointed out, smiling slightly. “I don’t know if I’ll ever tell her the details.”

 

“Yeah,” Nina mused. “May not be for the best. But I’ll cover for you when she wakes up. I’ll tell her your flight changed or something.”

 

I smiled gratefully and reached up a hand to scratch against one of Chester’s ears. They twitched against my hand and he regarded me with yellow eyes.

 

“I’ll be seeing ya, you mean ass cat,” I told him. “Look after my grandma, ok?”

 

Yellow eyes just stared at me and I gave him another quick pat. I let out a breath and gave Nina a smile.

 

“See ya, Nina,” I said. “I’ll text you when I can.”

 

“Ok,” she said, returning my smile. “Oh, and can you do me a favor?”

 

“What?”

 

“Get Charlie’s number for me, would you?” she asked, grinning.

 

I huffed out a laugh and shook my head.

 

“Go take yo’ thirsty ass to bed, Nina.”

 

__________________________________

 

_This is going to be fine. Not awkward at all. Nope._

I repeated the words in my head as I got out of the car, hoping that I would believe them if I heard them enough. The car ride to Akua’s home had been eventless and I hadn’t detected those familiar signatures on our way there.  Neither Charlie nor Erik had spoken during the ride, which didn’t bother me as I had amused myself by absently listening to the radio. When we had reached Akua’s place, I had detected three familiar energy signatures, though one in particular had given me pause. Nakia was inside, and thought it felt silly, I was worried. I moved near my luggage on the sidewalk but didn’t move to go inside.

 

I watched as Charlie caught the car keys that Erik tossed him and moved to get into the driver’s seat. He gave me a two finger salute and grin as he slid into the car and I found myself giving a small wave goodbye. As I watched him drive away, I absently wondered if Nina had been serious about asking for his number.

 

 _‘I could always get it from Erik,’_ I thought, watching as the man in question grabbed my stuff.

 

I had only brought two bags with me, as I hadn’t had a good idea of how one packs for an undercover mission. Practically comfortable?

 

I turned my attention to the front of the house, noting that there was only one light on in the front window. The neighborhood had that quiet stillness that came from the early morning hours, when the sun was near, but not quite close to rising.

 

“You gonna stand outside all night?”

 

I spared a glance at Erik, who was watching me again.

 

“Morning,” I said and he frowned. “It’s technically morning, not night.”

 

He gave me a look before turning to go into the house. Which meant I’d be left standing outside, looking stupid.

 

“Hey!” I said and cleared my voice when I realized I spoke a little too loud. “Hold up.”

 

Erik turned back to me, an impatient look on his face.

 

“I...um... how did Nakia seem... I mean, is she...”

 

Erik stared at me, a smirk slowly forming on his face. The fact that he guessed what was causing my hesitation made me scowl and he snickered at my expression.

 

“Just get yo’ ass inside,” he said and turning away. “Tripping over shit that ain’t even happened yet.”

 

Oddly, his words made snapped me out of it. It wasn’t the pep talk I wanted to hear, but it’d do.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenna gets to have some quiet time with T'Challa.

** Chapter 12  **

 

As it turned out, Erik was right.

 

The hushed halls of the home noted that all occupants were currently sleeping or at least occupied in their own rooms. Erik shot me a ‘told you so’ look after showing me to my room.

 

“Thanks,” I mumbled as he placed my bags down.

 

He grunted and turned to leave, but paused, before turning to look back at me. I watched with curiosity as he pushed out a breath.

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

I blinked at him, noting the tenseness of his tone. It clicked for me and I found myself smiling.

 

_He’s trying to be nice_.

 

Whether at Shae’s or T’Challa’s prompting I had no idea. From the stories T’Challa told me, it seemed that Shae had a tendency of urging Erik to be friendlier to people. It amused me that he seemed willing to listen to her.

 

I definitely wanted to meet her now.

 

Erik rolled his eyes as my grin grew and walked away. I wanted to tease him, but I felt we weren’t tight like that.

 

His aloofness was a stark contrast against Shae’s friendliness…but wasn’t there a saying that opposites attract? There was likely more to their story, but I didn’t bother dwelling on it.

 

I waited until he disappeared around the corner of the hall before closing my door. When I looked around, I realized I was in the same room from my last stay here. I moved my bags into an unused corner, toed off my tennis shoes and moved to sit on the end of the bed.

 

_Now what?_

 

Even though the sun hadn’t risen yet, I still felt the energy of the coming morning. It was that odd place where you could go back to sleep but felt it might be a waste because you’d have to wake up only a few hours later.

 

_Maybe T’Challa’s awake?_

 

He had always been an early riser. Sparing a glance around my empty bedroom, I knew I’d be bored and would likely just waste time replaying scenarios of my impending meeting with Nakia if I stayed here.

 

I’d rather take my mind off it by spending time with him. After all, I hadn’t seen him since he left and that was the same night I agreed to make things ‘official’ with him.

_____________

 

“You do this every morning?” I asked quietly from my perch on T’Challa’s bed.

 

He sat crossed legged in front of a large bay window, wearing only a pair of white knit drawstring pants. His hands rested loosely on his thighs as he faced the window, eyes closed.

 

“I have found it to be a necessity in my morning routine,” he replied.

 

“Hmm.”

 

I kept my chin propped on a pillow as I laid on my stomach, watching him closely. More like I took the time to let my eyes travel down the defined muscles of his back, shoulders and arms. I bit my lip as my gaze drifted over his powerful body, a heat building in my lower belly.

 

“You’re being very distracting, entle.”

 

The bass of his voice had the heat spreading and I blinked.

 

“I’m not doing anything,” I protested. “I’m just laying here.”

 

T’Challa turned to look at me over his shoulder, a brow raised.

 

“I can feel you watching me.”

 

“Didn’t know that bothered you,” I huffed, pushing my chin deeper into the soft pillow.

 

“It doesn’t,” he said. “It’s your scent that’s distracting me.”

 

I stared at him in confusion and he chuckled. I watched as he shifted out of his pose, rolling his shoulders and twisting his torso as he stood. The flex and grace of his movements was something to witness. He came to stand in front of me and I let my eyes drift over the hard lines of his stomach, up the solid muscles of his chest and then up to that handsome face that smirked down at me.

 

“My scent?” I asked and felt my face heat at how breathy I sounded.

 

“Yes,” he murmured. “I can smell that you want me.”

 

I sat up and let the pillow fall into my lap. It was a subtle attempt to act unaffected, but I knew he wasn’t buying it.

 

“Bullshit,” I said and lifted my chin. “You’re making that up.”

 

T’Challa grinned and then moved onto the bed in front of me and I had to move back to allow him room. He followed me, moving until I was forced to fall onto my back as he braced himself above me.

 

“You are calling your King a liar?” he teased, gazing down at me.

 

I snorted and raised a brow.

 

“Chill, you’re not my King,” I sniffed. “I’m not Wakandan, remember?”

 

The words had meant to be teasing, but I felt him still above me. I worried that maybe I hadn’t said the right thing, searching his expression as he regarded me.

 

“T’Challa, sorry, I didn’t mean…”

 

He cut me off with a kiss, his lips sealing over mine. My lips were already parted for him and he swept his tongue in to taste me, his body coming down to settle more securely over mine. I slid my hands up, letting them stroke along the soft skin that covered the hard muscles underneath. I realized suddenly that this was the first time I had been in such an embrace with him.

  
I was eager for more.

 

I kissed him hungrily, moaning as his own hands began to explore my body. They stroked across my waist, my stomach and then grazed the sides of my breasts. I wished I was wearing less than my t-shirts and jeans and felt my body become almost overheated. I wrapped my legs around his waist and let out a gasp when he grinded into me.

 

_Holy shit, is that him?_

 

I had my suspicions about T’Challa’s size, but what was pressing against me was definitely bigger than I had imagined. He rocked his hips again and I titled my head back, a soft groan spilling from my lips.

 

T’Challa pushed out a breath as he buried his face into my neck. Then he suddenly stilled the motion of his hips and I made a small noise of protest. He pressed his nose into the skin of my neck and inhaled deeply for a second before rolling off of me.

 

“Bast,” he muttered and rubbed a hand across his face. I shifted to look at him, feeling thoroughly aroused and confused.

 

“What’s wrong?” I asked, searching his face. He had closed his eyes and was taking in a few deep breaths.

 

“You are testing my control,” he muttered and shook his head. “It was not my intention to take you here.”

 

I blinked in confusion and pushed myself up, so I could gaze down at him.

 

“I’m going to need you to elaborate,” I said tersely, and a small smile formed on his lips.

 

“I had plans for how I wish to court you,” he said and waved a hand around the room. “This was not a part of them.”

 

He pushed himself up, so we were both sitting up and gazing at one another. His eyes swept across my face and his smile grew at my expression.

 

“I am sorry, entle,” he said and stroked a finger across my cheek. “I am not trying to be cruel.”

 

“Sure, you aren’t,” I muttered. “Just trying to be a gentleman?”

 

He shrugged and let his hand drop down to stroke along my arm.

 

“You don’t have to be,” I hedged. “I’m cool with it.”

 

T’Challa frowned and I inclined my head at the seriousness of his expression. It seemed almost as if my words had saddened him slightly. The heat of the encounter was ebbing slowly away to something that seemed just as intimate.

 

“But that’s what you deserve,” he said firmly. “To be treated more than a desirable object. And it has become apparent to me that you have not been valued as you should have. I intend to remedy that.”

 

T’Challa’s dark gaze captured mine and I felt the sincerity of his words.

 

“If it seems I am being old-fashioned in that sense, it is because I want to leave no room for confusion. I treasure you, entle and I will make sure you are aware of that whenever you are with me.”

 

I was surprised by the tears that welled in my eyes and turned my face away. T’Challa gently turned my chin back to face him and I couldn’t look away when the first few tears spilled.

  
“And do not hide your pain from me, Jenna,” he murmured. “Never feel you must hide anything from me.”

 

_He’s too good for me._

 

The thought flickered through my mind and I let out a soft cry and leaned forward. T’Challa pulled me into his arms, his hands stroking gently down my back. It was amazing how the meaning of one’s touch could change so quickly based on the circumstances. I pressed my face into his neck as the tears continued to spill and he held me, murmuring softly in Xhosa.

 

He was too good for me, but I was going to hold onto him for as long as I could.

 

I kept myself from losing it too much and took a few calming breaths. I pulled back and scrubbed at my face with my palms before letting out a shaky breath.

 

“Just keep your hands to yourself if you’re not going to follow through.”

 

My gruff comment had him smirking and he inclined his head slightly. My evasive tactic was noted but he didn’t push me.

 

“I see,” he said and let his fingers drift across my hips. “I am not allowed any indulgences?”

 

I narrowed my eyes and poked him in the chest with one finger.

  
“You’re the one making up these rules,” I muttered. “I’ve made it pretty clear that I haven’t had many long-standing relationships.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

I furrowed my brows at his tone.

 

“Hmm? What does that ‘hmm’ mean?” I demanded.

 

T’Challa shrugged and I poked him again. He sighed.

 

“Though it is selfish,” he said slowly. “I am…relieved that you have not had many suitors.”

 

I couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that came.

 

“What, glad you don’t have to compare to many exs or something?” I asked.

 

He just shrugged casually and I shook my head.   

 

“Well, I get it. After all, I’ve got higher standards to live up to when it comes to your exs. You know, it’s kind of unfair, seeing as you’ve got the advantage in all this.”

  
T’Challa gave me a look and I pushed out a breath.

 

“I didn’t…damnit, I didn’t mean it like that,” I mumbled.

 

It felt like I was either too sensitive or too insensitive. Was I overthinking everything? Why did it feel like I couldn’t get my shit together?

 

I flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, scowling at my thoughts. I felt the bed shift and titled my head to watch as T’Challa rested on his side, facing me.

 

“You make things more difficult than necessary,” he commented.

 

“I know,” I sighed. “I don’t think I’ll be over it until I just see her.”

 

I let my eyes rise to the ceiling again.

 

“You’re sure she’s…cool about this?” I asked softly.

 

“She appears to be so.”

 

“Ok, but women can appear to be one thing and actually be the other.”

 

“I am aware,” he replied dryly.

 

I felt myself smile, though I didn’t turn to look at him. The room lapsed into silence for a few moments, but I could feel him still studying me.

 

“Does she still get up early?”

 

“It is a hard habit to break.”

 

I titled my head to look at him, raising a brow.

 

“How do you do that?”

 

He mimicked my expression as he propped his head on one hand.

  
“Do what?”

 

“I don’t know,” I said, eying him. “Manage to answer neutrally to everything.”

 

“It’s a skill,” he said simply and grinned. I rolled my eyes, though a small smile grew.

 

“Just…maybe, don’t feel you have to do that with me, ok?” I asked, my tone growing serious. “I don’t want to feel like I'm one of your subjects or something. It’s just you and me, right?”

 

T’Challa regarded me and then gave me a gentle smile.

 

“I know, entle,” he said. “I will try. For you.”

 

I rolled to my side, smiling at that. Then I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Then another. And another, deeper than the one before. My hand slid to cup the back of his head and he leaned forward, one arm coming up to pull me towards him by my waist. My fingers stroked along the coils of his hair, scraping gently at his scalp. He groaned into the next kiss before he turned his head away.

 

“Bast, Jenna,” he muttered. “You ask for me to behave, yet you refuse to.”

 

“Not my fault, T,” I teased, letting my lips skim along the shell of his ear. “It’s not my control we’re testing.”

 

T’Challa muttered something in Xhosa and then rolled away from me. I made a noise of protest, ineffectively trying to keep him from leaving by a weak grip on his arm. He pulled away with ease and moved from the bed.

 

“Wait,” I whined. “Where are you going?”

 

“I am going to take a shower,” he said and spared me a glance over his shoulder as he walked away. “You can stay here if you wish.”

 

I scowled at him and crossed my arms.

 

“How long are you planning on playing this whole celibate thing?” I demanded.

 

“Until after the mission. At least.”

 

I balked, and he laughed at my expression.

 

“Why do you think we aren’t sharing a room?” he prompted. “I have my limits, Jenna. It is torture enough to have you in my bed as it is.”

 

With a wink, he headed into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

 

I snapped my mouth shut, wondering which one of us had the better self-control. The sound of the shower started, and I let myself lay down, shaking my head. I noted that tendrils of sunlight were beginning to filter into the room, signaling that the morning was closer than I thought. As I absently listened to the sound of running water, images came unbidden to my mind.

 

_Smooth, brown skin under sudsy water._

_Glistening muscles, flexing with each movement._

I groaned and threw an arm over my face.

 

I didn’t really need to be romanced. I mean sex can be romantic too, right? We’re a modern couple, we can do whatever we want!

 

_I want you to feel treasured_.

 

T’Challa’s words rolled in my mind and I moved my arm, peeking up at the ceiling as I felt a small smile forming.

 

I didn’t know what that felt like – to know someone loved you enough that they wanted you to feel more than just a fuckbuddy. I had no idea what dating a King would be like. No, I had no idea what dating _T’Challa_ would be like.

 

I spared a glance at the bathroom door and let out a sigh. Hell, I had lived with my fantasies for years, I could hold out a little longer.

 

I let my mind wander as I waited and only realized I had drifted off when T’Challa gently woke me once he was prepared for the day. I made room for him and he settled onto the bed next to me, content with holding me in his arms. We spent time just talking, both of us behaving, even as I stayed snuggled to his side. It was nicer being able to laugh and talk face to face, instead of over the phone. I had said I was fine with long distance, but I found there was just something about physical closeness that made everything worth it. And being this close, I was able to feel his vibrant energy brush along mine, rubbing soothingly in places that had me relaxing completely against him. T’Challa still hadn’t elaborated on how he was able to do that, but he mentioned that it was more my ability than his. I opened the connection and he just filled it in.

It didn’t really matter because it was total fucking bonus in my opinion. I had never been able to share such a connection with someone like that before, not in a way that they could reciprocate.

 

“Tell me something fun,” I said, nuzzling into his neck. “Not that I don’t mind the stories about your work and family.”

 

I felt warm and comfy and felt his spike of amusement as one of his fingers traced a small pattern on my hip. I didn’t want to leave his arms if I could help it, would never get tired of hearing his smooth voice rumbling beneath my ear as I rested my head on his chest.

 

_Just like before, but so much different. And better_.

 

“Fun?” he mused. “Such as?”

 

I rubbed a hand lightly over his chest, my fingers smoothing along the soft material of his shirt.

 

“I don’t know,” I said. “Spill some tea.” 

  
His chest vibrated as he chuckled, and it made me smile.   
  
“Spill tea? I haven’t heard that one.”

 

I laughed lightly as I plucked his shirt.

 

“Yeah,” I said. “Gossip or something. What stories are swirling around the palace?”

 

“Ah, I see. Hmm…. Shae accepted N’Jadaka’s proposal.”

 

I sat up to that, a small laugh escaping me.

 

“Seriously?” I asked, grinning. “He actually proposed to her?”

 

“Yes,” he replied, sounding amused, “he was quite nervous about it, though he would never admit to it.”

 

“Wow, that’s…great. It is great, right? They’re both happy?”

 

T’Challa smiled and nodded.

 

“N’Jadaka has been able to reclaim his heart by being with Shae. And I truly believe that she loves him. If that was not the case, he would never had asked her to be his bride.”

 

There was a softness to his tone that had me studying him. A flicker of melancholy vibrated in his energy and I cocked my head.

 

“It wasn’t for nothing then,” I said softly. “You saving him?”

 

T’Challa’s eyes met mine and his lips quirked slightly.

 

“I have learned that I must make peace with the decisions I make,” he said. “It is necessary if I am to be an effective leader. Yet, there are times when I have made decisions of the heart that give me moments of pause.”

 

“And saving Erik was one of those decisions?” I prompted.

 

T’Challa remained silent for a moment, thinking quietly.

 

“It was a risk, one that many may still feel was an unnecessary one,” he said finally. “There was nothing to indicate that N’Jadaka would change except for my hope that it would be so. He is very stubborn…”

 

“Must be a family trait.”

 

“…and there was no guarantee that he would choose a new path in life,” he continued, ignoring my interruption. “He seemed secluded from me, his heart trapped in a place that no one could reach. At least that is what I had assumed at the time.”

 

“What changed your mind?” I asked. “I mean, once he was recovering, there had to be something that made you still want to try.”

 

“Shuri mentioned to me that he had spoken of a woman he had known before. He said her name with such fondness that we were eager to know if there was someone out there that would give him his own hope.”

 

“Shae?”

 

“Yes,” he said. “And the more he opened up to me, the more I learned how important she was to him.”

 

“So, she made him turn from his wicked ways and become a better person,” I mused.

 

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No one can make N’Jadaka do anything he does not wish to. Shae gave him hope, but I believe that N’Jadaka made his decisions on his own.”

 

“You’ve thought a lot about this,” I commented.

 

“I suppose so,” he sighed. “I have always had a deep connection with my family. I have sparse memories of my uncle N’Jobu before he left for America. Knowing what happened between him and my father and the lasting effects it had on my cousin…”

 

T’Challa pushed out a sigh and rubbed a hand across his brows.

 

“N’Jadaka has found some happiness in this world, but there are times where I can see where the scars remain.”

 

I rubbed a hand down his arm soothingly.

  
“It’s not your job to heal all his wounds,” I said gently. “You already gave him another chance at life. What he carries with him isn’t your fault and it’s up to him to let go. All you can do is what you’re already doing, being there for him when you can.”

 

I let my fingers drift down to stroke lightly along his knuckles.

 

“That’s the more than most of us get,” I said softly. “So he should be just fine with the support group he has now.”

 

T’Challa linked his fingers with mine as he studied me.

 

“Have you been so alone, Jenna?”

 

I shrugged and felt a gentle nudge of his energy. I sighed.

 

“I have a job, a home, transportation,” I listed off. “My grandmother loves me and supports me. My best friend is more like a sister than a friend and has my back.”

 

“And yet?”

 

I shrugged again, and he frowned at me.

 

“If a black woman takes a stand, she’s angry. If she says things aren’t right, she’s just complaining or lazy. If she wants to change things, she should just be grateful for what she does have. We’re only allowed to be strong or be quiet as we shoulder both our burdens and those of others.”

 

“From your dissertation,” he commented, and I cocked my head. “Yes, I remember that as well.”

 

I shook my head, but the smile came anyway. His constant reminders that he had never forgotten me would seem to always lighten my mood.

 

“Anyway,” I said. “I’m not as lonely as everyone makes it seem.”

 

“There is no shame if you were.”

 

“Were you?” I retorted, feeling defensive.

 

“At times.”

 

I blinked in surprise, startled by the easy admission.

 

“You’re just going to admit that?” I asked, and he arched a brow.

 

“Why not?” he replied. “If I were unable to admit it, I would not be able to seek those whose presence and counsel gives me comfort.”

 

He said it unabashedly, with no sense of discomfort or hesitation. It threw me, and I realized I wasn’t used to such honesty.

 

“Well, I haven’t really had the opportunities to be vulnerable around other people,” I said. “Especially not with the men…well…sort of relationships I’ve had.”

 

“I am not like other men, Jenna.”

 

There it was. The self-assuredness of someone who knew who they were, an awareness that couldn’t be faked. Such confidence was extremely sexy, especially when it was genuine.

 

“Kind of arrogant,” I teased, trying to keep my tone light. “Don’t you think?”

 

T’Challa lifted my hand and pressed his lips to the back of it.

 

“Not arrogant,” he murmured, his lips moving to brush against my wrist. “Accurate.”

 

Yeah, definitely hella sexy.

 

“You can be vulnerable with me,” he said, lifting his eyes to meet mine.

 

I swallowed and pulled my hand away.

 

“What if I don’t know how?” I asked softly.

 

“Then we will learn together,” he said, nudging my chin gently. “And take our time.”

 

“We?” I prompted.

 

He inclined his head, brows furrowing slightly.

 

“Yes, I will…try my best to share what I can with you.”

 

I eyed him, and he pushed out a sigh.

 

“I will not ask more than I am willing to give,” he amended.

 

“Hmm,” I said and nodded. “Ok. I can work with that.”

T’Challa smiled and his energy brightened, signaling his pleasure. I couldn’t help but return his smile, shaking my head slightly at the feel of his enthusiasm. I snuggled into his side again, feeling at peace for the first time. It was easier to let the worried thoughts of the future drift from my mind, because for the first time, I knew T’Challa would be a part of it.

 

That meant everything would turn out ok, right?

 

___________________

 

It was interesting how you could replay scenarios over and over in your head, each one worse than the first one. You tell yourself that you do this to prepare for the worst, but all it does is stress you the fuck out and make you wish you could just hide from whatever problem you’re facing. But in most circumstances, your imagination tends to be a lot more dramatic than reality.

 

This became apparent when we finally made our way to breakfast and I spotted Nakia sitting at the long dinner table, quietly eating her meal. I had been so engrossed in my lazy morning with T’Challa I hadn’t even bothered to reach out to note where everyone else was. I had started at the sight of her, frozen as she lifted her gaze to meet mine.

 

“Hello Jenna,” she said and smiled. “You look well.”

 

“Y-yeah.”

 

“Are you hungry?” she said and motioned to the spread in front of her. “Akua has been eager to cook for guests again it seems.”

 

She was right. Fruits, meats, porridges and rolls littered the table. There were a few jars of preserves with serving spoons in them and a pot of steaming tea sat on a small mat surrounded by small cups.

 

“Uh, yeah.”

 

A snicker had me noticing Erik for the first time, who lounged in a chair on the other end of the table. He had one arm thrown across the back of the chair and was smirking as he watched me.

 

“N’Jadaka,” T’Challa said behind me. “A word?”

 

Erik’s eyes slid behind me and whatever expression T’Challa wore made him smirk wider. Sparing me an amused glance, he rose from his seat and strolled towards us, his hands in his pockets.

 

“Try full sentences,” he told me as he passed.

 

Ok, so I wasn’t being that eloquent, but he didn’t have to be an ass about it. I shot him a dirty look over my shoulder, but he was already following T’Challa out into the hall.

 

Leaving me alone, with only the sound of Akua moving in the kitchen to distract me.

 

_Might as well get it over with._

 

And just like that, my biggest worry was sitting in front of me, calmly sipping on a cup of tea.

 

“How have you been?” Nakia asked, watching as I slowly started making my plate.

 

“Ah…busy,” I said lamely. “I heard you’re working at the Center?”

 

“Yes,” she said, smiling slightly. “It has been the longest I’ve stayed in one place for a while. It took a bit to get used to, but I enjoy it.”

 

“That’s great,” I said, pausing to take a bit of a roll. “You were always so passionate. Glad to hear you found your calling.”

 

Nakia studied me for a moment before lowering her fork.

 

“Can I ask you an honest question?”

 

I felt a flicker of panic but stilled it. I gave her a smile that I hoped wasn’t too bright.

 

“Sure, go ahead.”

 

“Are you nervous because we haven’t spoken in a while or because of my relationship with T’Challa?”

 

The frankness of the question had me pausing and I stalled to take a few more bites of food.

 

“Umm…kind of both?” I offered hesitantly.

 

Nakia gazed at me for a second, then let her gaze drift down to her plate.

 

“I know you and T’Challa are in a relationship right now,” she said. “And I know you are aware that T’Challa and I were together for a time.”

  
She sighed and looked at me again.

  
“I suppose I had hoped that your memories of me wouldn’t become just me being T’Challa’s ex.”

 

The hurt in her words prompted a wave of guilt and shame to overcome me. How could I have done that to her? Hadn’t we talked about such things, of how we hated that our identities as women could be watered down to who we dated?

 

How had I forgotten all that?  

 

_Because you were being selfish._

I had spent all this time, anxiously waiting for her disapproval or perhaps even jealousy. That’s how it was sometimes – it wasn’t uncommon for exs to get into it with the new girlfriend.

  
But Nakia had been my friend before all of that. She had been someone I had been close to revealing my secret to, when it had mattered so much to me to keep things hidden. She had been important, way more than just someone who I had thought of as a love rival. No, I had never thought of her like that – not really. And yet, I had turned the image of her in my head into a jealous ex who would outshine me in my new relationship.

 

_God, I’m such a bitch._

I curled my hands in my lap, my head lowering slightly.

 

“I’m sorry, Nakia,” I said softly. “I wasn’t…. this wasn’t fair to you. You were…are more than just an ex. You’re my friend and I’m sorry I haven’t been…”

 

“I’m not asking for you to feel guilty, Jenna,” she interrupted gently. “I just wanted to…I hope you still think of me as fondly as I do of you.”

 

I raised my brows at her, but she returned my gaze evenly. She meant that and I felt even more contrite.  

 

“Yeah, of course I do,” I said. “I got a bit caught up in other things, but I’ve always thought of…or at least hoped we would still be friends.”

 

Relief. It was so sharp and sudden that it threw me for a second. I realized it was Nakia’s and I blinked at her. She was smiling brightly and I inclined my head.

 

“You were worried?” I asked curiously.

 

“Of course, I was,” she said, “everyone made it sound like you didn’t want to see me. What was I supposed to think?”

 

“Everyone?” I asked and groaned. “God, why is everyone talking about me?”

 

“It is rather annoying,” she agreed. “Almost as if everyone knows how you’re going to react without your input.”

 

I grimaced, feeling that flare of guilt. I couldn’t really blame her for coming for me.

 

“Fair point,” I said and gave her a small smile. “How about you just…let it all out and we can start fresh?”

 

Nakia took her time eating a few pieces of fruit and sip at her tea. Then she focused her attention on me again.

 

“I was hurt when you cut me off and T’Challa was…. evasive about the details of what happened between you two. But I’ve had time to come to terms with what happened and I don’t harbor any grudges against you.”

 

She lowered her cup and cocked her head at me.

 

“Do you have any against me?”

 

The question was genuine, her feelings sincere as she awaited my answer. It was a loaded question and I knew what she was really asking. A sincere question deserved an honest answer.

 

“No,” I admitted slowly. “But it’s kind of weird, isn’t it? I mean…”

 

I sighed and rolled the grapes on my plate around with my fork.

 

“Ok, real talk? I…I always knew you and T’Challa were or were going to be a thing. And I technically wasn’t wrong about that.”

 

I spared her a glance and she inclined her head at me.

 

“I’m not thinking of you as an ex,” I said quickly, reading her expression. “That wasn’t…it wasn’t the main reason I was all weird about everything.”

 

“Then what was it?” she prompted.

 

I didn’t answer right away, focusing on my food for a few moments. She waited patiently, finishing up her meal and wiping her lips with a napkin.

 

“Aside from Nina, you two were the closest things I had as friends,” I continued on. “And I know it sounds kind of sad but it meant a lot to me.”

 

“There’s nothing sad about that,” she said softly. “I know it can be lonely in a world such as this.”

 

I glanced at her, wondering at what Nakia must have seen over the years. She looked at me and I realized she was waiting for me to continue.

 

“Right, well,” I continued. “I just…I really wanted to make it last with you two. And it was hard because when it came to T’Challa it was…I liked him. More than I wanted to admit, even to myself. And I knew you two were close, even if I wasn’t sure how close you were. So, I was conflicted. How could I be a good friend and also be in lov….like the same person that my friend did?”

 

I looked at her and she nodded for me to continue.

 

"You were so easy to talk to,” I said softly. “So willing to be open with me and tell me what you think and how you felt. But that was our line and I didn’t think there was ever a way to get past it.”

 

“That was in the past,” she said. “Things have changed since then.”

 

“Sure,” I said.  “But it’s not the same. You two had a romantic relationship. It may be over now, but those feelings don’t go away, even if the relationship changes.”

 

“No,” she agreed. “They do not. But that is not all I am. That is not the only aspect of my identity or who I wish to be. I'm more than just my past relationships and who I may have loved. You can understand that, can’t you?”

 

Of course I could. Isn’t that what we all wanted? To be seen as more than just our past, more than who were with or the mistakes we may have made.

 

“Yeah,” I admitted quietly. “Yeah, I get that.”

 

Nakia let out a breath and shifted in her seat.

 

“Well, all I can offer you is my genuine happiness that you two have found each other. And if it helps, I truly hope that you two will have a lasting relationship.”

 

“Why?”

 

The question fell from my lips before I could stop it, but Nakia simply smiled.

 

“Because I care for you both,” she said. “And that means, no matter what personal hesitations I may have, I want you both to be happy. The world is too cruel for me to not hope for such a thing.”

 

Why was I so sensitive today? I felt tears well in my eyes and ducked my head. She subtly pushed a napkin towards me and I took it to dab at my eyes.

 

“These sausages are really spicy,” I mumbled, sniffling. “Must be some Wakandan spice or something.”

 

“Sure,” she said, grinning at me. “That’s it.”

 

Why had I been so worried about Nakia entering my life again? How had I forgotten how much of a good friend she had been?

 

I was going to do better. There were too many people in my life who were showing me that I could do better, and I vowed I would start trying.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't always plan for the unknown - Jenna gets a lesson on how to think on her feet.

Chapter 13

“I gotta say, Nakia,” I said, watching the passing scenery as we drove, “if this is you holding no grudges against me, I’m terrified what you being shitty with me would really look like.”

Nakia flashed me a small smirk before returning her eyes back to the road. I had been training with her for the last few days at the gym T’Challa had purchased. It was a relief to get outside of the house, and with the info from Wakandan intel and surveillance, it was deemed appropriate that I stayed out of the open for as long as possible. I had to practically beg T’Challa to at least let me continue my training outside of the house. I was not meant to be cooped up for too long and it was only because they wanted me to be prepared as possible that he allowed it.

That was also new—I wasn’t sure if I cared for someone telling me what to do. And when T’Challa gave an order he expected it to be obeyed. When this was all over, we might need to have a chat about that.

“You complain, but you’re actually doing pretty well,” she said, rolling up to a stoplight. “I’m impressed.”

“Yeah, well,” I said and gave a nice roll of my shoulders. “Something about having Okoye kicking your ass will turn you into a quick learner. By the way, were you always this badass at fighting or was it after Oxford?”

“I didn’t really get into my formal training until I returned to Wakanda,” she said and pushed on the gas when the light changed.

“Oh,” I said. “So what was that like?”

“My training?” she questioned.

“Yeah.”

“It was difficult,” she admitted. “Made even more so by the fact that my parents weren’t necessarily pleased with my decision to become a Wardog.”

I furrowed my brows and cocked my head.

“I thought Wakanda was supposed to be super progressive,” I pointed out. “Ahead of the game on women empowerment and what not. Why would they care?”

Nakia had to turn on the windshield wipers as a drizzle started. She sighed as she gazed out the front window.

“We are progressive,” she said. “But in Wakanda, there are traditions and roles. Precedent for keeping the natural balance of things and protecting us from the outside world. It is not so much that we are constricted in our freedoms, but we are constantly reminded how our roles can help or hinder Wakanda’s progress.”

It sounded like she was reciting a speech she had heard many times before.

 “So, you find your role and fit into and stepping outside of it is bad?” I asked, studying her.

“It’s more like…everyone in Wakanda has a place where they belong. Everyone has a purpose and is seen as valuable in the progression and protection of our country and our ideals. Whether it’s protecting the border, innovating technology, education, protecting the King…we all have the chance to find our place…our calling in society.”

“Ok,” I said, nodding. “But…”

Her brows furrowed slightly as she thought and the rain began pattering more loudly against the car.  

“There are some of us that are born into roles that we may not wish to have. Or someone decided them for us…long before we realized we had a choice. When T’Challa and I were growing up, we were just friends. We played together, went to school together, explored and fell in love with our country together…”

I felt that familiar twitch in my stomach, but I kept my cool. After all, it wasn’t like I hadn’t heard any of this already.

“And as we grew older…we began to understand that our parent’s enthusiasm for our friendship stemmed beyond that. T’Challa was the Crown Prince of Wakanda and I was the daughter of the River Tribe Chieftan. Our match would be favorable to our people and our ancestors.”

My stomach clenched uncomfortably, but Nakia’s gaze remained ahead. I could sense her frustration and knew, inherently, that her words weren’t meant to hurt me.

“But I still had more freedom to explore being more than just a chieftan’s daughter. Not like T’Challa. He was and always would be destined to be King. Even so, I still had to beg my father to allow me the chance to see outside of Wakanda, at least once, and he agreed. And that’s when I saw, for the first time, that for all Wakanda had, the world was suffering and we had done nothing about it.”

She spared me a quick glance and a small smile formed.

“And I met you…you were brilliant and passionate. We had thought that the tragedies and misfortunes of the world made outsiders arrogant and ignorant. But not only were you aware of the issues you faced…of the challenges that you would have to endure…. you were still trying and thriving and fighting for something that would make the world better. It made me want to try too.”

I blinked, astonished. We had had many conversations in the past, talking about social justice, political reform…so many late night debates and heartfelt discussions on what we would change if we had the power to. At the time, it never occurred to me that both T’Challa and Nakia had such power to make actual changes in the world.

“So that’s why you became a Wardog?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “It took time though and I had to not only convince my father, but King T’Chaka and T’Challa as well. All of them wanted me to stay in Wakanda…to explore the possibility of what my future could be if I…”

She trailed off and I felt a flicker of hesitation from her.

“If you became Queen,” I filled in and sighed. “Yeah, I know, remember? Just power through it.”

Nakia gave me a side glance and I shrugged.

“I’m not saying it’s not weird for me…but I’m trying to be a better friend and not hold it against you. This whole being a mature adult is kind of new for me.”

Nakia grinned and shook her head.

“It’s a work in progress for all of us,” she said, waving a hand. “Not just you.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes.

“Please,” I said. “You’re the one making big changes, being a spy, tracking down ivory traders and sex traffickers.”

Nakia gave me another quick look, her eyes soft.

“I am not perfect, Jenna,” she said quietly. “My life of privilege has blinded me in ways that I am still learning.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not actually following through on the things you want to do with your life,” I muttered.

She frowned at me and I quirked a brow at her. She huffed out a sigh.

“You need to give yourself more credit,” she said. “Didn’t you tell me that you’ve been saving people in your spare time? Don’t you think their lives have been impacted by your actions?”

“Yeah, but…”

“Everyone thinks making changes means taking huge strides or doing some grandiose movement,” she interrupted. “But making the decision to stand up for one person, just one person, has more impact on the world than we think. And not all of us have natural gifts to protect others who cannot protect themselves.”

I felt touched by her words and couldn’t help the soft smile I gave her. It was sudden, but my life was suddenly filled with people who were encouraging and inspiring and seemed to believe in me. It had meant so much to have that with my grandmother and Nina, and to have a growing circle of thoughtful and supportive people in my life, it was something I wished I had sought out sooner.

“You’re really not afraid of me?” I asked softly. “I mean…you don’t seem like it during training but…”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Why would I be?”

“Have you met another mutant before?” I prompted. “I mean most people at least look startled whenever they see my powers.”

“Hmm…well…T’Challa’s ex was a mutant and she was nice enough. And there are a few I had met in my travels, so, no, I’ve never felt I needed to be afraid.”

I straightened in my seat, staring at her.

“Woah…nah, hold up,” I said and she blinked at me. “T’Challa dated a mutant? Who? When?”

Nakia blinked again and then winced, rubbing a finger down the bridge of her noise. We were at another stoplight, and she met my gaze fully.

“Eh…I should not have…”

“Who, Nakia?” I insisted.

She pursed her lips and my eyes narrowed. She shook her head slightly and let out a sigh.

“Ororo Munroe of the X-men,” she admitted. “It was for a year or two, I think…but she felt her place was better served with the mutant community in America.”

“Storm!?” I squealed. “T’Challa dated Storm!?”

“You know her?”

“Of course I fucking know her, she’s one of the badasses in the mutant community. Hell, even outside of it.” 

“Oh,” Nakia said and gave me a weak smile. “I guess I thought you knew.”

“No,” I mumbled. “I didn’t really follow him like that.”

“Oh well,” she said and started off when the light turned green. “It doesn’t really matter, right? I mean, we’re all allowed to have relationships and move on.”

“Yeah,” I said and leaned against my car door. “I guess.”

I saw her reflection glance at me, but she didn’t say anything. I didn’t either and the sound of the pouring rain filled the silence as we continued our ride. Only a few moments passed before something familiar entered my perception. I didn’t move but furrowed my brows, trying to concentrate on it. The signatures were almost….

“I didn’t think you’d be this upset about,” Nakia murmured suddenly. “I’m not quite sure if it’s a cultural thing or not, but Americans tend to not handle relationships well. Though, I suppose that is generalizing…”

I absently heard her words but couldn’t focus on them. In the back of my mind, I was slightly amused that she was trying to give me a pep talk about getting over her ex’s ex. It was such a strange scenario that I truly couldn’t appreciate right now.

“I mean, I haven’t let that stop me from meeting new people,” she continued. “I admit, it’s not always easy, mostly for the new person in the relationship but…”

“Hey,” I said, cutting her off as a realization came to me. “We’re being followed.”

Nakia tilted her head and gave me another glance.

“Yes, I know.”

I shifted to look at her, frowning.

“What do you mean you know? You didn’t think to tell me?” I demanded.

“I thought you’d notice I wasn’t taking the regular route home,” she offered.

I blinked and refocused on our surroundings. I had been so engrossed in my other senses that I hadn’t realized we were on the opposite side of town from Akua’s place.

“Oh,” I said lamely. “Guess those Spy 101 classes aren’t doing much help, huh?”

I had been working with our group to try and get some quick tips on working on a covert mission and the number one lesson had been to be aware of your surroundings. Given my abilities, I had taken for granted that meant to engage all your senses, not just the special senses that I possessed.

“You’re still a novice,” she said simply. “It’s pretty good that you noticed anyway. I’m guessing you detected them?”

“Yeah,” I said and titled my head to peer over my seat.

“Don’t make it obvious,” she admonished gently and I faced forward again. “I’m guessing they’re about two cars behind, but it’s better to be careful.”

“Right,” I said. “So what’s the plan?”

“For now, we will just keep driving,” she said, sparing a glance through the rearview mirror. “We don’t want to lead them back.”

She pressed her lips together and muttered something under her breath in Xhosa.

“T’Challa was worried about this,” she said, noting my confused expression. “I hate when he’s right.”

I couldn’t help the small grin form at her words.

“Yeah, I get that feeling,” I said and she returned my grin.

We kept driving, with Nakia alternating her route a few times and even circling back once. By this time, she said they had to know we knew we were being followed, but they were persistent. They kept their two car distance and I could feel Nakia’s agitation building up.

“Enough of this,” she said firmly and switched lanes.

“What are we doing now?” I said, watching as she turned into the parking lot of a café.

“We’re getting lunch,” she said and pulled into a parking spot. “And let’s see how long they’re willing to play this game.”

I quirked a brow at her but began unbuckling my seat belt.

“So…we’re supposed to call T’Challa if something like this happens, right?” I asked hesitantly.

Nakia paused, her hand on the car door handle. Then she huffed out a sigh and nodded.

“That’s right,” she said. “We need to keep him in the loop. But there’s nothing he can do. It’s riskier to have him seen than it is for me.”

“But you’re supposed to be my seller,” I said, using air quotes around ‘seller.’ “Wouldn’t it be suspicious to see us hanging out like this, if these assholes are going to be at the auction?” 

 “Not necessarily,” she said. “As far as they know, this could be how I intake people. I could always spin it as a friendlier approach rather than a forceful one.”

“Like you trick your victims into trusting you before actually abducting them?” I asked.

“It’s the easiest way people are taken,” she said quietly. “People are willing to cooperate if you make them believe it’s in their best interest. Especially if they’re afraid.”

She was staring out the window now, her mood somber. I gazed at her, remembering that Nakia’s work had likely put her in situations where she’s seen the darkness of humanity. I reached out a hand and gave her arm a squeeze. She glanced at me over her shoulder, her lips quirking slightly in silent thanks.

“Let’s go.”

________________________

“It’s the same two guys from before, I think,” I said into my phone. “At least they feel like the same energy.”

“I see,” T’Challa said quietly. “Where are you now?”

“Umm…” I paused to glance down at our menu. “At Lady Rocka Café. Huh, never heard of this place. I really need to get out more.”

Nakia sipped lightly at an iced tea she had ordered, casually gazing out the café window. It was a decent crowd, not too busy and people chatted quietly at other tables. There was classical music playing from the speakers and it felt super classy and not in my price range, but I didn’t plan on buying any food.

“And they have not approached you?” T’Challa asked.

“Nope,” I said, turning a page of the menu. “They’ve just been watching us. One big, black dude and a white guy with a Steeler’s baseball cap. Both with beards and they don’t look armed.”

“One is,” Nakia corrected quietly. “The one in the hat has a small pistol in his right jacket pocket.”

I blinked at her and she inclined her head at me.

“It’s not cold enough outside to be wearing such a thick, leather jacket and he keeps patting it every time he moves.”

I furrowed my brows at her and she just gave me a patient smile. Ugh, I was so out of my depth here.

“Did you get all that?” I asked T’Challa.

“Yes,” he said and his voice had gone to that quiet calm. Either he was thinking or he was pissed. Probably both. “Do not engage with them, Jenna.”

I pursed my lips though I knew he couldn’t see it. Nakia covered her smile by taking a sip of her drink

“What makes you think…”

“You have been eager to…how did you say it? ‘Get this shit over with’ for a while now. This is not ideal but it can still be handled properly.”

“We may not have a choice,” Nakia said suddenly. “They’re coming over.”

She was right. They were rising from their seats, their gazes intent on us. So much for not being subtle.

“Do what Nakia tells you to,” T’Challa told me. “Don’t do anything rash.”

“Sure thing, Dad,” I muttered. “I’ll be a good girl.”

“Jenna,” T’Challa sighed. “This isn’t the time to be hurt. You know I do not mean to insult you.”

He was right, but I couldn’t help it. It just felt like I was floundering around while everyone else knew what they were doing.

“Yeah,” I said and shifted my menu closed. “I know. Gotta go.”

I didn’t give him the chance to respond and hung up the phone. It was the right timing because the two men reached our table, empty smiles on their faces.  

“Good evening, ladies,” the white guy said. “We were wondering if you’d like to join us.”

“For?” Nakia prompted, casually stirring the straw in her drink.

“There’s a delicate matter that your friend here,” the black guy said and motioned to me, “was involved in and we have a few questions for her.”

I raised my brows and folded my hands in my lap.

“For me? I don’t even…”

“Hush.”

The firm command came from Nakia and I blinked at her, startled. Her energy was an insistent one and I remember what T’Challa had told me about listening to her. I guess we were play acting early. Remembering what my role was, I let my gaze drop and looked away. Inwardly, I could feel my irritation. This was the part I hadn’t been looking forward to.

“Any inquiries you have for her,” Nakia said, seemingly satisfied by my reaction, “you can address to me.”

I let myself spare a glance at the two men, but they were gazing at Nakia. The white guy was frowning slightly and the black guy looked slightly amused. Both of their energies were suspicious and cautious.

“Are you her employer?” the white guy questioned.

“A sort,” Nakia said simply.

I felt the shift in them, an awareness that had them looking at Nakia more closely. She seemed undisturbed by their inspection, almost bored with the whole thing. But her energy was alert and careful. When they glanced at me, I promptly averted my eyes. Their energy shifted from cautious to calculating and I knew I had made the right move.

“Well,” the black guy said. “Our employer is very interested in your…employee, shall we say? In fact, this is a bit of surprise given that we have been in the process of obtaining her.”

I felt my hand curl into a fist under the table, but kept my gaze away. I knew they’d be able to read the anger on my face.

“It seems my tactics are more effective than yours,” Nakia said lightly. “We are just fine, aren’t we?”

I realized she was speaking to me and I gave a hesitant nod. The white guy was studying me again, but the black guy frowned at Nakia.

“It may be in all of our interests to discuss this,” he said to her. “After all, it’s better to make allies than enemies, wouldn’t you say?”

They were arguing over who had the right to take me. It was fucking ridiculous. T’Challa told me once that focusing on my breathing would help my temper, so I began counting down from ten in my head.

_10, 9, 8_

“I didn’t realize there was such a need for a partnership,” Nakia said. “What would your employer think of your offer?”

_7, 6, 5_

The two men exchanged a glance and I felt their hesitation. Then the white guy nodded slightly and they turned their attention back to Nakia.

_4, 3, 2_

“Perhaps it would be best to speak to him directly,” the black guy said. “Start on even footing and all that.”

_1_

Nakia paused and I could feel her tension. We knew, or at least had a guess, that these men were likely from the same group as before. And that meant that their employer was the very man we were after. I wasn’t well into the spy game yet, but this was a big opportunity. On one hand, we could get more intel and confirm that he was actually here. On the other hand, it could be a trap. I had no idea what the best course of action was and finally let the bubble of relief that Nakia was here build up.

“I don’t see any reason why I need to communicate with you or your employer at all,” she said finally. “I don’t know you, nor do you know me. All we have in common is her.”

The black guy gave her an unfriendly smile.

“True,” he said. “But you see, there’s really no matter of choice on your part. While cooperation is appreciated, it’s not necessary. You may have something we want, but that only puts you as an…inconvenience. So you could either approach this as a business opportunity or…”

He trailed off and shrugged. The white guy had crossed his arms, his gaze still trained on me. It was irritating and I couldn’t help the look I gave him. He just smirked down at me and I looked away, feeling my anger bubble under the surface.

_10, 9, 8, 7…_

“Oh excuse me, I’m sorry. Did you need me to grab you two some chairs?” a waitress asked, popping up behind Nakia’s seat.

“No,” the white guy said, his gaze still on me. “We were all just about to head out. Weren’t we?”

He let his gaze shift to Nakia and patted his jacket pocket slightly. It seemed he had heat on him too. Nakia’s eyes narrowed slightly, but her face remained neutral.

“Yes,” she said. “I suppose we were.”

Threat or not, I knew she wouldn’t allow innocent bystanders to get hurt. And neither would I.

______________________

The rain had lightened up when we stepped outside and followed the men to their cars.

“What now?” I hissed under my breath to Nakia.

“T’Challa won’t be far behind,” she replied quietly, keeping her gaze ahead. “For now, don’t engage with them. Let me handle this.”

“Cause that went over so well,” I muttered under my breath and she shot me an impatient look.

“Regardless of how this plays out,” she said to me. “They have information that we need.”

“But the auction…”

“This is likely tied to the auction, yes, but they seem more desperate. Perhaps you’re a bigger item than we anticipated if they’re becoming more direct.”

I stiffened at her words and she gave me a gentle look.

“I’m sorry. You know what I mean.”

I looked away and stuffed my hands into my pockets. Yeah, I knew what she meant.

The men’s car was a black SUV that reminded me of the night of my first attempted abduction. I felt a flicker of fear and immediately quashed it down. I wasn’t as helpless before. I spared a glance at Nakia, taking in her casual poster and calm expression. And I wasn’t alone either. At least this time, I was with someone who knew what they were doing.

“What is she wearing for you to control her powers?” The black guy asked when we reached the car.

“Nothing,” Nakia said with a shrug.

The men exchanged a glance and then frowned at us.

‘How do you keep her under control?”

_Sure, keep talking about me like I’m not standing right fucking here._

“Must be a woman’s touch,” she said and gave them a sweet smile. 

The white guy rolled his eyes and then opened the car door. He leaned in to grab something and when he stepped back a thick, silver collar was in his hand. It looked more advanced than the one from before but it made me tense up. I couldn’t help my reaction and he smirked at me.

“Come here,” he said and beckoned me forward with it. “Let’s just go with precautions.”

I didn’t move, and he frowned at me.

“Go,” Nakia said to me, her voice soft but firm. “Put it on.”

I looked at her and tried to shake off the feeling of betrayal. She was playing a role and I was meant to play mine. But I hated that collar and everything that came with it. It was only the gentle push of remorse from her energy that had me taking those few steps forward. She didn’t want this anymore than I did.  

I stayed still as he clicked the collar around my neck and felt the drain as everything went away. It was like I was in a hollow shell and nothing was there anymore. No fear, anger, hurt…nothing.

“It’s a bit of an upgrade,” the black guy said, leaning against the car door. “We’ve got remote systems for it now.”

A sudden, sharp pain lanced through my neck and I let out a gasp. I staggered forward and had to brace myself against the car door as the pain intensified.

“That’s enough,” Nakia said sharply. “She isn’t yours to abuse.”

“Just wanted to show you how it works,” the black guy said casually. “See? You can even turn up the juice if they get too rowdy.”

I was on my knees now, the pain causing spasms to crawl down my neck and back. I couldn’t even scream and felt tears well in my eyes.

“I said that’s enough,” Nakia snapped.

The pain ebbed away, but my muscles still twitched as I panted on my hands and knees. I didn’t even realize I was crying until I had to sniffle a few times. I was dragged to my feet by arm and pushed into the car. No one was in the parking lot and it would be a wonder if anyone would do anything about it anyway.

“See, this is why we don’t send women on retrieval missions,” the white guy muttered. “Whoever you’re working for hasn’t figured that out yet, huh?”

 “You better hope you never meet my employer,” Nakia said coldly. “He has a very different way of handling things.”

She slipped into the car behind me and the door shut on us. As the men went to take their seats at the front of the car, she steadied me with one hand on my arm. I leaned against the car door and closed my eyes, my body still twitching slightly.

“Ndiyaxolisa*,” she whispered to me quietly.

I had been catching up on my Xhosa since T’Challa came back into my life and I could remember that phrase. I wasn’t able to rely on my senses, but I had the instinctive feeling that the words were truly a heartfelt apology.

\-----------------

*Ndiyaxolisa - I am so sorry


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenna deals with her situation in the best way she can.

Chapter 14

We arrived to a non-descript building that only appeared to be four-stories tall and a bit removed from town. It was the type that you’d drive by every day and would have no idea the nefarious things that went on inside.  

Nakia and I were escorted through the front lobby and the inside look like a normal office building. There was even a secretary who sat a desk near a blocked entryway, a pleasant smile on her face.

“You’re back early,” she commented.

“Yeah,” the black guy said and pulled out a white badge for the scanner at the entryway. “Lucky day, I guess.”

The secretary smiled and nodded, but didn’t acknowledge Nakia or I. There was a click and the sound of gears shifting as the entryway unlocked. The black guy pushed on the handle and we followed him inside.

“Pretty standard security,” Nakia commented.

The white guy smirked at her.

“We’re not worried about people coming in,” he said and his gaze slid to me. “We’re more focused on keeping them from coming out.”

I just looked at him, feeling nothing in response to his words. He frowned slightly and if I had to guess, I’d say he was annoyed by my lack of reaction.

“And what is this place exactly?” Nakia asked. “You provided me with little information on the way over here.”

“Neither have you,” the black guy said coolly. “And you’re not really in the position to ask questions that we don’t need to answer right now, are you?”

“If that’s your interpretation of the situation,” Nakia said nonchalantly. “All these threats and yet, I’m not sure you quite understand my situation either.”

“Something that we’d all like to have resolved, I’d say,” a new voice said.

A woman and two other men were approaching us. She was wearing a white blouse and gray, stripped trouser pants. The two men who flanked her were obviously guards and openly sported automatic rifles on their shoulders. There was a name badge on the woman’s crisp, white lab coat, but I couldn’t make out the name.

“Farrow, you were only supposed to observe,” she said frowning at the black guy. “Retrieval was not a part of the plan.”

“A new opportunity presented itself,” Farrow said. “You can’t blame us for going acting on it. Besides, Brett and I’ve been following her for a while now.  It was starting to become a pain in the ass. Then she shows up with this one, claiming she got to her first.”

Farrow motioned to Nakia who had her hands clasped behind her back, looking more curious than concerned.

“And you are?” the woman asked, eyeing Nakia.

 “Think of me as a bored Nigerian heiress,” Nakia said. “Dabbling in a bit of…new ventures.”

The woman gave her a hard look before glancing at Farrow.

“You mentioned you were bringing in a potential buyer,” she said. “But you didn’t get any other information from her?”

“She wasn’t armed and wasn’t resisting,” Farrow said with a shrug. “I knew we’d handle it when we got here.”

“Damnit,” the woman hissed. “This is exactly the type of behavior that got the last group messed up. Mr. Fervis is losing his patience with this branch and I haven’t even tapped into the iceberg of potential here for my research. You guys are not going to fuck this up for me just because you get distracted when you see a pretty face.”

Farrow scowled at her words, but the woman had turned her attention to Nakia.

“I don’t care if you’re some spoiled rich girl with a ton of money on your hands, but you are going to tell me who you are and why you are here.”

“I would not be here if they weren’t trying to take what didn’t belong to them,” Nakia replied evenly.

The woman frowned and seemed to notice me for the first time. She stepped forward, peering at me over thick, black-framed glasses.

“Have you seen her use her powers?” she asked, turning to look at Farrow and his friend. “Did you confirm it was her?”

There was a pause as both men looked at her. The woman pushed out an irritated sigh.

“If you didn’t see her use her powers, how do you know she’s the right one?”

“Context,” the white guy said shrugging. “Same one who shows up at all the target locations. Plus this one knows enough for us to figure it out.”

He had gestured to Nakia, but the woman kept her gaze on him.

“It doesn’t matter, Brett, we have protocol for a reason. Ugh, never mind. Hand me the controller.”

Farrow slipped out a silver remote and handed it to her. I hadn’t seen it before, but knew that was what he had used on me before.

“Now,” the woman said, looking at me. “I’m going to adjust the collar so you can demonstrate for me.”

She tapped a button on the remote and I felt the emptiness withdraw slightly. I could faintly feel the energy inside me, a warm and familiar well of power. The woman gave me an expectant look, but I just met her gaze evenly.

“She only listens to her,” Farrow said casually. “Even if you shock her.”

The woman frowned and spared a glance at Nakia. It was faint, but I could get the hint of her wariness as she regarded Nakia.

“Would you mind?” she asked, her voice clipped.

Nakia raised a brow.

“I am still not sure what you all have to offer me here,” she said. “Why should I have her cooperate with you?”

The woman inhaled deeply through her nose, but put on a tight smile. I could sense the woman’s sharp frustration and annoyance.

“I’d offer you handsome compensation, but I assume that’s not why you are here,” the woman said, seeming to control the calm in her voice. “But I can say that if you assist us with this, this process will be much easier for her. And, if you are truly as bored as you say you are, we can offer you something much more worth your time.”

“Such as?” Nakia pressed.

“Have her demonstrate and we’ll go from there.”

They gazed at each other, both women sizing the other up. Farrow and Brett rolled their eyes at one another and the guards remained steady, their eyes trained on me.

“Go ahead,” Nakia said finally. “Show them.”

I could feel the faint feelings of concern coming from her and I let that encourage me to push down what I really wanted to do.

_Just a demonstration. Right._

I let my gaze drift to the woman and reached up a hand. She didn’t flinch, but the guards raised their rifles slightly. My fingertips began to light with the familiar, golden glow and I let it grow to encase my whole hand. A small, pulsing orb pulsed in my hand and crackled slightly.

“Fascinating,” the woman murmured, gazing at my hand.

I let the orb roll to the tips of my fingers and then flicked it in Farrow’s direction. He jumped back with a curse and it exploded against the wall. He whirled on me, his gun out and pointed at me.

“Real fucking funny, bitch,” he growled at me. I gave him a cold smile and he narrowed his eyes.

“That’s enough,” the woman sighed and then pressed another button on the remote. “We’ll take her to the dormitories and then you and I can talk.”

Nakia simply nodded and the woman pocketed the remote. I only got a second to miss the feel of my energy ebbing away before I was left with the cold, emptiness again.

__________________________

They put me in a small room, with only a small cot in one corner and a toilet and sink in the other. The walls were white and bare and there was a camera stationed in the upper corner.

“Cozy,” I said absently and the woman spared me a look.

“It’s more comfortable than most of our subjects are allowed,” she sniffed. “You only have your owner to thank for these quarters. That is always subject to change though.”

I understood the warning in her words and said nothing. Nodding, she turned her attention to Nakia.

“Now, you can either tell us who you are or you can get your own room. Which do you prefer?”

“I have been given clear instruction that the only person I am concerned with is your employer,” she said. “Any threats you have won’t be well received.”

“By whom?” the woman demanded.

Nakia just smiled and said nothing. The men shifted, but Nakia’s smiled never dipped and she kept her hands clasped loosely behind her back. The woman regarded her and raised a hand and the men lowered their rifles.

“I think we could work well together,” the woman said. “It’s becoming a bit of man’s club around here, so having some female input will be refreshing.”

Nakia inclined her head and said nothing. Let other people talk, as much as they are willing. That’s what she had told me once. If the woman wanted to make an ally on her own, Nakia wasn’t going to correct her.

“In any case, we’ll be keeping her here for now. Let’s call this a neutral problem until we can reach an agreement. You understand, don’t you?” the woman continued.

Nakia let her gaze drift to me, studying me. I just looked back at her, my hands held loose at my sides. I couldn’t read her emotions and she couldn’t give anything away without the others noticing. With my lack of empathetic abilities, I was at a lost for whatever message she was trying to convey with me. It turned out that it wasn’t just a matter of relying on my powers to read other people. Without them, I didn’t even have emotions.

Logically, I knew that she wanted me to stay here. It would only make sense because if I protested, it’d risk blowing her cover. So, I nodded and moved to sit down on the cot.

“I’m not happy about this arrangement,” Nakia said, her attention returning to the woman. “I worked very hard to get her and well…building the trust is a key part of my success.”

The woman raised her brows and glanced over me and then back to Nakia.

“Do you have some sort of controlling abilities?” the woman asked.

“No.”

“Technology?”

“No,” Nakia repeated.

“Then how…” the woman started and shook her head at Nakia’s smile. “Never mind. I know you won’t tell me. Regardless, she stays here, for now.”

The woman gestured, and Farrow stepped forward and pushed the door close and I wasn't able to hear the rest of their conversation. I was sealed inside, with only the harsh light of the overhead lamp filling the room.

I laid down on the cot, letting my eyes stay trained on the ceiling. With the collar, I had no fear or even the sense of boredom. Just emptiness. I couldn’t even bring myself to think over questions for more than a few seconds.

Before we had entered the building Farrow and Brett had taken patted us down for any items and had taken our phones. Our bags were left in our car, which was back at the café’s parking lot. I had no idea what time it was or the ability to even call anyone.

What did we do now? How long were they going to buy Nakia’s story? Which, I felt was pretty weak at this point. I could only assume that the woman seemed more interested in bringing in more people than an actual security concern. And even if they believed she was a potential buyer, how long before they got fed up with Nakia’s evasive answers?  And didn’t Nakia say T’Challa was on his way? How would he find us?

These were all just questions, with no emotion attached to them. But that last one had T’Challa’s face come to mind and for a moment, I felt a well of desire to see him. It was like it was pushing against the effects of the collar, my brain trying to convey how important that feeling was. But then it was gone and I was left feeling shaky, but still empty. I rolled onto my side and curled into a small ball, my eyelids fluttering shut. I felt drained from the shocks of the collar from earlier and the only thing I could come up with was to fall asleep.

_________________

It was the pain that woke me up. The collar went off and sharp agony tore me from my sleep, leaving me writhing on the cot.

“Up, girl,” a familiar voice drawled.

The pain subsided and I was left gasping and trembling. Brett stood over me, the silver remote poised in his hand and quirked a brow when I made no move to get off the cot. When his thumb hovered over the button, I pushed myself up weakly and raised one hand.

“Ok,” I hissed, my throat feeling hoarse. “Ok.”

He lowered the remote and took a step back so I could push myself to my feet. He now carried a rifle with him, and one finger tapped impatiently against it as he waited for me to straighten.

“Let’s go,” he growled and gave me a push towards the door.

I prided myself for not stumbling and let him herd me out into the hallway.

“Where is she?” I asked, peering at him over my shoulder.

“Not your problem,” he said and motioned for me to take the left hallway with his rifle. “Move.”

I was herded down the hall and past a few closed doors, all with the same heavy deadbolt and security panel next to them. I swore I could hear crying in one or two of them and something heavy slammed against one of the doors as I passed. I didn’t flinch, but merely looked at the door, only urged forward with the head of Brett’s rifle in my back.

“Fucking muties,” he muttered under his breath. “Don’t know how to keep fucking quiet.”

I didn’t respond to his words and just kept moving. I could see that our destination was a door at the end of the hall and vaguely wondered how big this building really was. When we reached the door, Brett stepped around me to swipe his card through the card slot on the wall. The light near the door handle turned green and he pulled it open.

“Have fun,” he said, jerking his head for me to step inside. “You better hope those fingers of yours aren’t just for show.”

I glanced into the dark room and then back at him. He lifted his rifle at me and I glanced down the barrel of it and then back up to his face.

“The hell is wrong with you?” he muttered. “Like a fucking zombie. Just get your ass in there.”

He reached over and yanked me forward by my arm and then shoved me in. I glanced over my shoulder to see him closing the door behind me and listened to the whir of gears as the heavy dead bolt slid into place. 

The room was suddenly awash in a bright light and I raised my hands to shield from it. I blinked slowly, trying to let my eyes adjust as I took in the room. It was a bare open room, with cement floors and white, empty walls. About the size of a large dining room, but with cameras stationed in the upper corners and bright lights shining from the ceiling.

“Step forward, Number 29,” a voice called from the ceiling. “You will be paired with our newcomer. You know the drill.”

“Yeah,” a voice muttered from the darkness. “I know.”

A figure stepped forward and I blinked, taking the man in. He was a mountain of a man, his dark skin smooth over bulging muscles. He wore a green t-shirt strained against his chest and a pair of dark jeans and worn down white sneakers. He looked like he needed a good line up, his hair growing thickly on his head and face. I blinked at him again and he gave me a closed-lipped smile.

“Damn,” he said, his eyes sweeping over me. “You had to give me a beauty, huh?”

“Focus, Number 29,” the voice sighed. “If you do well you can have her later.”

Something flickered in his eyes at those words and the smile fell from his face. I wasn’t alarmed by the words, wasn’t really alarmed by anything.

“What is this?” I asked, wanting information more than anything.

“A test,” he replied and motioned around the room. “Assess whether you’re worth the hassle.”

“Hassle for what?”

“Begin,” the voice said, sounding irritated. “Now, Number 29.”

He scowled upward and my eyes followed to see another camera nestled in the corner.

“She doesn’t know anything,” he muttered. “It don’t help if they don’t know anything.”

There was a pause and then he was suddenly gritting his teeth, the muscles in his neck bulging. I realized then that he was wearing the familiar silver band around his neck. And they were hurting him.

“All right,” he snarled. “Fuck, I got it.”

He gave a shuddering breath and then shook his head as he straightened. He pushed out a breath as he gazed at me and then flexed his hands.

“You’re gonna have to try, beautiful,” he said to me.

I blinked at him. That was becoming a new habit.

“Try what?”

He spared a glance at one of the cameras and then back at me. A wry smile tugged at his lips as he stepped forward.

“Try to survive.”

And then he lunged for me. I stepped back, but he was too quick and slammed into me, throwing me backwards. It felt like I got hit by a car and my body slammed against the concrete floor. I let out a ragged gasp and rolled to my side, the pain lancing along my body.

I had never fought against another mutant or anyone with special abilities before. But I knew that this man had some sort of abilities, at the vey least, super strength. There was no other explanation for it.

“Get up,” he said to me. “You stay down too long they’ll get pissed.”

My arms felt weak but I pushed myself up and rolled to my feet. I had sparred with Erik a few times and he hadn’t held back on me. At least I hadn’t thought so. But he had shown me how to handle taking a blow from a bigger man.

“I don’t want to fight you,” I said and the words came out painfully.

“Me neither, sweetheart,” he said and shook his head. “Ain’t our choice though.”

He lunged for me again and this time, I forced myself to move quicker. He went pass me by a hair and I turned on my feet, unwilling to give him my back. When I flexed my hands, they were already glowing. I blinked in surprise and then realized I could actually _feel_ my surprise.

“Turned down the collars,” the man explained. “Want to know what we can do with our powers if we need to.”

“Oh,” I muttered. “So we’re just supposed to have gladiator style match until Caesar up there is satisfied?”

The man blinked and then grinned at me.

“I thought I’d might like you,” he said and the smiled slipped. “Too bad I have to hurt you.”

With my powers slightly working, I could sense the genuine remorse coming off from him. It made it both worse and better for me. If he was just an asshole, I wouldn’t feel so reluctant to fight him. But it seemed like he was right. There wasn’t much of a choice for either of us.

He came for me again and I dodged him and then slammed my force field into him. It sent him flying away from me and he landed heavily. I winced, but kept my distance, eying him.

“Shit,” he grunted and rolled over to push himself up.

“Now we’re even,” I said and he snorted.

“Number 29,” the voice growled. “Mr. Fervis is waiting.”

That gave me pause and I felt a flicker of anticipation. So Fervis _was_ here and that meant…

I snapped out my distracted thoughts quick enough to realize Number 29 was coming for me. I only had a fraction of a second to throw up my shield before he slammed into my shield. It was hard enough that we both were sent flying away from one another with the force. I landed hard on my back and felt the smack of pain run along my spine. I groaned and rolled weakly to my side, but felt a strong hand grab me and yank me upwards.

“If this is all you can do,” Number 29 hissed in my ear. “You ain’t gonna last long here.”

He began twisting my arm painfully behind my back and I gritted my teeth, willing myself not to scream.

“I don’t want to have to kill you,” he said and there was an almost pleading tone to his voice. “Fight!”

I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to fight for some stupid test on whether or not I was valuable enough to sell. I didn’t want to fight someone I didn’t know who was forced into this just like I was.

_What’s the point of dying here then?_

The thought had me dragging in a sharp breath, even as tears welled in my eyes from the painful grip on my arm. One more hard yank and he’d either break it or pull it out of my socket.

Fuck this.

I curled my free hand into a fist, letting my energy pool into it. Then I twisted my body so I could slam it into the side of his face. There was enough force to the blow that he let my arm go. I was free, but moved quickly, ignoring the numbing pain shooting up my wounded arm. I faced him more fully and pulled back my fist, before surging it forward to send a powerful punch into his stomach. The release of my energy had him flying away from me, hard enough that it sent him across the room. He smashed against the opposite wall hard enough that it cracked against his impact. This time, he sat there, stunned and groaning.

“There,” I hissed, panting. “Better?”

Number 29 was shaking his head and began slowly pushing himself to his feet.

“Yeah,” he said roughly and wiped at the trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth. “That’s more like it.”

I didn’t say anything, but stood my ground, one arm hanging limply to my side, the other holding an already formed orb, ready for whatever he did next.

“You got more of that in you?” he questioned, rolling his shoulders.

The orb in my palm grew bigger, energy crackling as it pulsed in my palm. He smirked and nodded.

“Good,” he said and moved towards me.

I knew now to keep away from his blows and to not let him get a hold on me. Despite his massive size he was quick and any time I tripped up, the brunt of his blows connecting reminded me to move faster. I was also beginning to suspect that he was holding back a bit. Whether I was special or if he always did, I didn’t know. That didn’t keep me from throwing my energy balls at him when I could. Most of the time, it was enough to keep him away from me, but I couldn’t find it in me to do more damage than I already was. It seemed he also had durability on his side too.

So, when I got far enough away, I threw up my force field and pushed my energy into to keep him at bay. He had started slamming his fists against the invisible force and it was hurting me on a level I hadn’t experienced before. If my control broke, the shield would snap and it was beginning to take its toll on me. The drain from the collar still wasn’t giving me my full strength and I wasn’t sure how long I would be able to keep this up.

“Lower your shield,” the voice told me.

I ignored it and Number 29 kept pummeling my shield. I could feel the sweat trickle down the back of my neck, my hand raised as I pushed all the energy I could into keeping my shield strong.

“Lower your shield,” the voice repeated. “Or you will be punished.”

“Fuck you,” I hissed back.

A sudden pain shot through me, breaking my concentration. My shield shattered, but I wasn’t worried about Number 29 anymore.  The collar was shocking me more than it had before and I screamed as the convulsions started.

 “If you are unwilling to be tested properly,” the voice said. “Then we must have a new assessment.”

I was in agony and it felt like my entire body was on fire. I alternated between clawing at the ground and the collar, but it didn’t end. Number 29 gazed down at me, his hands held loose at his sides. His face looked tired as he watched me.

“I told you,” Number 29 murmured. “I told you to try.”

I couldn’t answer. There was a ringing growing in my ears and I felt darkness swim into my vision. I welcomed it, hoping that it would at least take me away from the pain of the waking world.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I'm back! I realized that I gave notes regarding on Tumblr on updates, but not here.  
> So, given my school and work schedule, I'll be only able to give around 2 chapters a month for a bit. But I haven't forgotten this series or my upcoming works!
> 
> And I'm so grateful for everyone who is still reading and supporting!! I love you all and your support and comments. It really continues to encourage me to continue writing.

 

 

When I started to regain consciousness, there was a light ringing in my ears. My stomach clenched uncomfortably, and I felt a wave a nausea sweep through me. My throat felt raw and it hurt to draw in a shuddering breath through my mouth. Lights blinded me, and I had to blink slowly before I could see properly. I shifted, trying to get my bearings, and realized I was strapped down to a table in the center of the room. I tilted my neck and found that my wrists and ankles were encased in silver cuffs. As I began to struggle, I felt the panic tighten my throat and make my heart race.

 

“What the hell?” I hissed and tried yanking at my limbs.

 

“You recover quick, I’ll give you that. Most would still be out after that strong of a jolt.”

 

I turned my head slowly, feeling the aches and pain throughout my body, until my eyes rested on the figure who had spoken. Separated by a glass barrier, Number 29 was seated in a metal chair facing me. His hands and feet were placed in metal restraints and he was leaning casually back in his seat, as if they weren’t a bother to him. There were a few holes in the glass wall separating us that allowed his voice to come through clearly.

 

“How you feel?” he questioned, studying me.

 

“Hurts,” I whispered and winced.

 

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “It’ll be that way for a while. Just take it easy.”

 

I wasn’t sure why, but they had removed my collar. It didn’t make me feel any better as I began to struggle against my constraints. Number 29 was shaking his head at me, but I ignored him, still pulling at my wrists and ankles. There was a sudden buzzing and then shocks erupted along my body. The table itself was apparently laden with sensors that went off with my movements. My nerves already felt fried from the earlier punishment, so I let my body grow still and the shocks ebbed.

 

“You ain’t that good at listening, are you?” Number 29 asked dryly. “Don’t give them the excuse to hurt you.”

 

My breath came out slowly as I tried to ease the tension in my body. It wasn’t helping. I let my eyes drift around the room again, trying to find clues that could tell me what was going on. 

 

“Where am I?” I asked.

 

“Interrogation probably,” he answered, shrugging.

 

I blinked again and tilted my head slightly.

 

“Why are you here?” I asked.

 

He answered me with another shrug. I rolled my eyes and he sighed. 

 

“I just go where they tell me to go,” he said. “And they weren’t happy with you.”

 

“Why?”

 

“You were holding back,” he said.

 

“Had no choice,” I said, my voice still weak. “Even lifting the dampeners a little bit doesn’t give me my full force.”

 

“No?” he said and cocked his head at me. “Might be hope for you yet.”

 

I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. He was watching me through hooded eyes, his brows smooth. He was wary and cautious but I didn’t know if it was for what was coming for him. Or for me.

 

A part of me was starting to wish that the dampeners were stronger. At least then I wouldn’t have the fear that made it feel like my heart was going to beat out of my chest.

 

Where the hell was Nakia?!

 

Number 29 was still studying me, his chest rising and falling evenly. Either he was used to this or had learned to keep calm. I wanted to try drawing on it, but I still felt too raw. Maybe I could just use him as a distraction instead. 

 

“Is your name really Number 29?” I asked.

 

I knew it wasn’t, but it helped to feel his flicker of amusement.

 

“Nah,” he said, with a quirk of his lips. “Just my designation.”

 

“Designation?”  I asked.

 

“I was the 29th person they brought in,” he said. “Hence 29.”

 

“Oh,” I said. “So…they’ve brought more in then, yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“How many?” I asked.

 

He shrugged and didn’t answer.

 

Ok. Well, that wasn’t helpful.

 

“Well, what’s your real name?” I asked.

 

Number 29 pushed out a breath and let his head tilt towards the ceiling. The seconds ticked by and I realized he wasn’t going to say anything else. I let my eyes drift around the room again, pausing briefly on the camera and then away.

 

“What is this place?” I asked, trying something else. “I mean this whole facility or whatever.”

 

“Far as I can tell,” Number 29 said. “It’s a testing center or some shit.”

 

“Testing center?” I questioned.

 

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes still trained on the ceiling. “They find people like us, bring us in and…well either you’re inbound or outbound.”

 

“What?”

 

“Sell or keep,” he explained, his eyes drifting down. “If you’re good enough for them, they keep you. If not, you get sold.”

 

“You’re still here,” I pointed out.

 

“I’m a favorite,” he said, shrugging. “Been here almost since the beginning.”

 

“How did they get you?” I asked. “You’re like a tank out there, I don’t imagine it was easy.”

 

He smiled then, but it was merely curling back of his lips over his teeth.

 

“Nah, they had to convince me to come in,” he said. “Not everyone gets that luxury.”

 

“What did they offer you?” I asked.

 

The smile eased and his face went blank. He didn’t answer.

 

Ok, so no personal questions. 

 

“So, they either grab you or offer you some sort of…a deal, I guess? But still, wouldn’t it be noticeable when people start going missing?”

 

“Does anyone ever notice the unwanted going missing?” he retorted. “When have they ever cared when the minority goes missing or dead? When have their voices ever been heard?”

 

I studied him, slightly startled by the fierceness of his tone. And I hated that he was right. Only certain people were missed, the rest of us were just blips on society’s radar. There and gone without causing a disturbance.

 

Number 29 sighed and shook his head.

 

“Look, most of the people they grab, they don’t have family or friends and nowhere to go.”

 

“There are places,” I pointed out. “That will teach them how to control their powers.”

 

He snorted.

 

“Not everyone’s looking to go back to school,” he said. “Just want to be left alone. Or make money. Or just allowed to fucking live.”

 

“I’m guessing that’s not what you get when you get here though,” I commented.

 

“No,” he said flatly. “It’s not.”

 

“What’s the end game in abducting all these people then? What do they really want?”

 

Number 29 was frowning at me, his head straightening as he eyed me.

 

“You ask a lot of questions.”

 

“Well,” I said. “Finding distractions is the best way to help not give in to panic. And you need information to make logical decisions that aren’t based on emotion.”

 

He arched a brow at my words and I shrugged.

 

“Something my boyfriend said to me.”

 

“You ain’t single then,” he said and shook his head. “Damn.”

 

“Sorry to disappoint,” I said dryly.

 

“You get used to it around here,” he said with a shrug.

 

“Good to hear you two are getting to know one another,” a female voice piped up. “It will make the process easier.”

 

My eyes darted around, but no one else came into view. But the voice sounded like the woman from before. Number 29’s face had closed off again, but there was alertness to his body that hadn’t been there before.

 

I let my eyes drift to the camera, not really sure if that’s where I should direct my question to.

 

“Where is she?” I demanded.

 

There was a pause and for a moment I thought she might ignore me. Or at least didn’t know who I was talking about. It would be helpful to know if Nakia was watching or not. Or have some indication that she was okay.

 

“She’s not your concern anymore,” a new voice said. “All rights of ownership have been transferred. And I think you’ll make a good addition to my collection.”

 

Interestingly enough, it was Number 29 who told me that the man speaking was Fervis. The way his body went rigid and the boiling hatred that bubbled from him, almost so strong I could have choked on it. Who else would get such a reaction?

 

Wait, did he say rights of ownership?

 

“Begin the stress test,” the Fervis said. “At level seven.”

 

“But sir…”

 

“We’re running out of time, McCormick,” the Fervis interrupted. “If she’s got anything I need to see it. Now.”

 

I didn’t even get a chance to figure it out. The table buzzed and warmed and then the shocks were seizing my body. I convulsed and thrashed and screamed, but it didn’t stop. My powers started to react as my well opened and my natural force reacted to the energy of the table. Before I could draw on it, the shocks eased and I laid gasping, tears streaming down my face as my chest heaved.

 

“Not bad,” Fervis mused. “She can withstand that much, huh? She’ll do fine.”

 

“From the preliminary readings, I believe her pairing with Number 29 would be favorable,” McCormick said. “The breeding program is still in preliminary phases but…”

 

I felt a sudden ringing in my ears as my vision swam. I turned panicked eyes to see that Number 29 was staring at me. I could feel his horror and disgust. But it was his resignation that terrified me the most.

 

“This is all in theory of course and there’s going to be a lot of trial and error with the genetic experimentation, but ….”

 

I kept staring at Number 29 and he must have read the horrified disbelief on my face. He shook his head slightly and then looked away. I swallowed, realizing that he was confirming they were serious. The muscles of his jaw clenched and unclenched, but other than that he did nothing.

 

No. No fucking way in all the possible universes was I letting someone….

 

“We’re not…we’re not some animals,” I hissed. “Not your personal livestock for whatever fucked up army you’re trying to build.”

 

“Shut up,” Number 29 hissed at me.

 

I glanced at him again to find him giving me an almost pleading look. Apparently speaking out of turn wasn’t favored here.

 

I didn’t give a fuck. I was moving beyond panic and fear to downright rage.

 

“I don’t give a fuck who you are,” I snarled at the ceiling. “You’re not breeding me. There’s no fucking way I’m going to let you do that!”

 

The words ended in an angry shout to the ceiling and then there was a heavy silence.

 

“What makes you think we need your permission?” Fervis finally asked. It was the boredom that pushed me over.

 

“You fucked up mother…”

 

“McCormick,” Fervis sighed.

 

There was the familiar buzz and then the electric shocks bore into me. The ringing grew in my ears and I let out a shriek as the convulsions began.

 

“Turn it up,” Fervis said.

 

“Sir, we run the risk of triggering a…”

 

“I said turn it up,” he snapped.

 

I had never been in such excruciating pain before. It ransacked all my senses and clouded my mind. I didn’t know if I was screaming anymore, didn’t know if those were tears running down my face. My body was becoming hot and numb at the same time and I couldn’t control the violent shakes as I flailed against my hold. My powers spilled from my hands and blasted against the walls, but nothing gave away. I was trapped in suffering and didn’t know how long they would keep me there.

 

They want to trap me. Breed me.

 

Even as it felt like my mind beginning to deteriorate under the painful onslaught, those thoughts rang in my head. The well of my powers rippled and then, something snapped inside of me. Who I was became lost inside of that well, shielding me. I was inside of darkness and light.

 

I was free.

_______________________

 

Pain. So much pain.

 

Survival.  I must survive.

 

The energy brings pain. No. No, I am energy.

 

The pain is there because I forgot that I am energy.

 

And there’s so much of it. I draw it in, become stronger. So strong. It fills me up. The more they give me, the more they feed me. I redirect the energy and I throw it out.

 

The room explodes, nothing holds me. I move away, drawing energy from everywhere. It’s all around me. And it’s mine.

 

People shouting, demanding me to stop. I can’t stop. Will never be stopped.

 

Gunshots fire, but nothing can touch me. I take my energy and throw it out. Those little balls of life force fan around me, run towards me. They’re confused and angry. But most of all they’re afraid.

 

And when they’re afraid, they can’t hurt me.

 

Attack. Stay safe. Survive.

 

The fears spread to blend in with panic. But the anger is still there, burning against me.

 

Something slams against me, against my shields, threatening me. This life force is big. Familiar. Sad and afraid. But it attacks me. So it must be stopped.

 

I will never be trapped again. I take the swell of energy, building it and building it. Then I explode.

 

I can feel new energy now. The whisper of wind. The sun. Oh, the beautiful energy of the sun. It makes me stronger. I draw on it eagerly. I feel light.

 

But those angry life forces are still there. No. They are no longer angry. They are more afraid. There’s so many of them.

 

Doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.

 

“Jenna!”

 

That is…. that sounds familiar. But the other life forces are still there. Still afraid. I move towards them. They must be stopped… all of them!

 

Something warm and comforting touches me. I stop. This life force…it is….

 

I pause and it surges forward, eagerly seeking me. I flair and it recoils slightly, before rushing back in. Determined. Worried. Loving.

 

But not afraid.

 

I can’t…I don’t…. I don’t know what to make of it. But I must survive. I let out an explosion of my powers, and that warm energy moves out the way. It’s smart, but the others aren’t. They fly away from me.

 

But that warmth is back again, pushing through.

 

“Jenna, you must calm down.”

 

That voice…oh…I know that voice. I stop. I can…

 

Two more energies come; cautious, but not fearful. Careful. And they too seem familiar.

 

I don’t know why. I don’t know!

 

It makes me nervous. I don’t like that. The warm energy strokes against me again, drawing my attention back to it. It’s soothing …enough that I…

 

“We gotta handle this, T. She’s already torn down half of this place.” 

 

That life force is nearing me and I tense. The soothing energy flares, but it’s not towards me.

 

“I am handling this, N’Jadaka.”

 

The other life force is neutral, tense. I brush against it and I feel its anger. It rebuffs me sharply and I flare in response.

 

“N’Jadaka, don’t provoke her.”

 

“Then tell your girl to knock it off, T. I hate that shit.”

 

The neutral energy pulls away slightly, but it tried to hurt me. I try following it. This time, it doesn’t respond, but it is still angry. There’s so much rage there… The soothing energy fills me again, draws me away. I feel…I feel…almost…safe?

 

Jenna,” that soothing voice says again. “Listen to me, entle.”

 

I wait, too curious now. I stay still…and the warm energy is stroking me, almost coaxing me from…

 

The large life force is shifting again, coming towards me. It can get near!

 

“Do not approach her.”

 

It pauses, rebuffed by the warm energy that is still steadying me.

 

“Look, I don’t know who ya’ll are, but she’s out of control. I can stop her.” 

 

That voice sounds familiar. The voice of someone who has hurt me before. It sounded remorseful But I'm not going to let anyone hurt me again.

 

“No, you cannot. She is only reacting when she feels threatened.”

 

“And you gonna stop her in that catsuit?”

 

“Ay, nigga, just back the fuck up. We got this.”

 

It’s that neutral energy again, the one that contains that dark rage….so easy to be consumed. But the warm life force tethers me. I’m not interested in leaving it…it feels too good…too comforting.

 

“Ya’ll are fucking crazy.” 

 

The big life force backs away slowly. I focus on it…wary…cautious… But the soothing energy is calm. It is careful, but it is still calm. I don’t know what to do. 

 

“Jenna,” the soothing voice says. “Focus on me.”

 

The energy draws me to it and its filling me again. It’s trying to reach down…down where…

 

“You are safe,” the voice continues. “No one will hurt you now.”

 

“They’ll always…. want to…. hurt me. Never…never safe…”

 

The words come out slow and haltingly. My throat and mouth struggle to form the words. There is a flicker of sadness in the energy but it is quickly shifted into calm again. Soothing. Comforting. I want to follow it…but in my well…I can protect myself.

 

“You are safe with me, Jenna. I gave you my word.”

 

I feel something and realize that I am being touched, a physical sensation that startles me. I tense but don’t pull away.

 

“That’s it, Jenna. But I need you to come back to me, entle.”

 

The words confuse me.

 

“I am…right…here.”

 

His energy tugs at me and I resist, realizing he’s trying to draw me from my safety.

 

“I need you, entle,” he says gently. “I need you to come out.”

 

No! I draw back, but his energy is firm, holding me. I am drawn into a physical embrace and feel strong arms wrap around me. The hold tightens when I flare my energy but doesn’t let go. I don’t want to hurt…I feel….

 

“You are safe,” he murmurs in my ear. “*Yima.”

 

The foreign words have something click in me. I am waking again…I am…I am safe. I can come out. I am safe. I know who is holding me now.

 

“T’Challa,” I whisper.

 

I can feel the strength of his arms, and breath in his familiar scent as I cling to him. He holds me gently and presses a kiss to my cheek.

 

“Yes,” he says. “I am here.”

 

As I’m drawn out of myself, I begin to feel the rest of my physical senses. I blink slowly, drawing my face back to gaze blearily into T’Challa’s face. I can see the relief in his dark brown eyes and he reaches up a hand to cup my face.

 

“There you are,” he says. “Thank Bast.”

 

I open my mouth to answer him, but I immediately turn away, yanking out his grasp as I fall to my knees. Then, I throw up. I can feel all of the pain, nausea, and exhaustion as they catch up with me. I stay on my hands and knees as I retch, the rubble beneath me digging into my palms. T’Challa sweeps my hair out of the way and waits patiently as I heave, rubbing soothing circles on my back. I can feel the wind on my skin and I blink slowly.

 

How did I get outside?

 

Shakily, my eyes take in my surroundings and I feel the shock set in at the sight before me. We appear to be standing in rubble, the whole side of the building blown off. I can see fallen guards scattered amongst the ruin and there are a few small fires here and there.

 

“What happened?” I whisper. The words come out a croak, but I still get an answer.

 

“You did,” a voice grumbles. “Guess you don’t do subtle, huh?”

 

I tilt my head and see Erik and Nakia making their way towards us. Nakia has lost her jacket, but she doesn’t seem bothered by it. She holds a gun in one hand, her eyes assessing the area. Erik was wearing a catsuit similar to T’Challa’s, but it was more ornate with golden spots and had a golden necklace with teeth. He held one broad sword in one hand and I could see another strapped to his back. His hair was braided back from his face, and I could see his dark eyes studying me closely.

 

“I…I did all of this?” I asked, staring at him.

 

He quirked a brow and crossed his arms.

 

“Like a mini nuke going off,” he said and then his gaze drifted beyond me. “Hold up, nigga.”

 

I turned to see that Number 29 was approaching us. I stared up at him, meeting his gaze as he stared down at me. His eyes darted to Erik then to T’Challa and me again.

 

“You attacked me,” I said to him. “I…I could feel you…”

 

“Had no choice, sweetheart,” he said and motioned with one hand to his neck. “Not with this thing.”

 

T’Challa had tensed slightly at Number 29’s nickname for me and I felt a flicker of something from him. If I had the energy to, I would have almost smiled at the thought of him being jealous.

 

“That sword ain’t going to do nothing to me,” Number 29 said, aware of Erik’s scrutiny.

 

Erik gave him a cold smile.

 

“Ain’t the sword you need to worry about,” he said.

 

“I am literally done with this shit!” a voice shrieked.

 

The words had us turning to see McCormick, who was storming into view, her clothes dirty and the ends of her lab coat tattered. I felt my anger flare at the sight of her, remembering what she had planned for me, but it was the small group of men behind her that had me tensing. 

 

“You,” she hissed, pointing a firm finger at me. “Have ruined everything! Aside from the fact that you destroyed half the building, you also destroyed all of my research! Do you know how long that took me to get all of that?!”

 

“Nakia?” T’Challa asked, his voice even.

 

“He’s not here,” she answered.

 

T’Challa made a displeased noise, his lips curling down into a frown.

 

“Then we are done here.”

 

“Excuse me!?” McCormick thundered.

 

I would have laughed at her reaction, but everything hurt too much. I still didn’t have a clear picture as to how things ended up this way, but I was guessing that Fervis had gotten away.

 

Damn it.

 

Strong arms wrapped around me suddenly and I made a squeak of protest as I was lifted into the air.

 

“Hey!” I protested. “Put me down!”

 

“Hush,” T’Challa said as he settled me in his arms. “You are in no condition to move around on your own.”

 

The sound of rifles cocking caught my attention and I realized that two of the men had come to flank McCormick. And they were aiming straight for us.

 

“What happened to Farrow?” McCormick demanded, staring at Nakia. “He was supposed to get rid of you.”

 

“Yes,” Nakia, said, smiling, “he was.”

 

McCormick scowled at her, then let her eyes drift over the rest of our group. When they landed on T’Challa, they widened slightly.

 

“There’s no point asking who you are,” she muttered, tugging off her glasses to clean. “Though some things are starting to make sense. It doesn’t matter.”

 

She slipped them back on and squinted at us.

 

“Number 65 is the property of Mr. Fervis,” she said and lifted her chin. “Royalty or not, I’m going to have to ask you to hand her over.”

 

I could feel my heart race as I realized that they had already given me a designation. My eyes flickered to Number 29, who was standing off to the side. He was scowling down at the ground, his hands clenched at his sides. I noticed that he didn’t seem to have the idea to try and get away.

 

“We can take them out here,” Erik said, casually studying the armed men. “Grab some of them for intel.”

 

“That doctor would be most helpful,” T’Challa mused. “Though intel gathering is not my inclination at this point.”

 

Erik turned to look at him, his eyes studying his cousin’s face. T’Challa met his gaze evenly and Erik’s gaze flickered to me and back again.

 

“Ain’t as easy to turn the other way when it’s your girl, is it?” Erik asked.

 

There was something bubbling in T’Challa’s energy. Something I had never felt before. I blinked, realizing that it reminded me of Erik.

 

It was rage.

 

I studied T’Challa’s closed expression, but he kept his gaze on Erik.

 

“No,” he said finally. “It is not. I believe I understand you a bit more now, umzala.”

 

Erik snorted and rolled his shoulders.

 

“Uh huh. Remember this when you be pulling that lecture shit on me later.”

 

“We need to make a move,” Nakia said, her gun still aimed at the ground. “This conversation can happen later.”

 

Both men looked at her, but she met their gazes unflinchingly. She was right though; the armed men were getting antsy and I could feel McCormick’s frustration as she watched us. It was clear that she was out of her element though. The indecision was having her hesitate, unwilling to give orders until she could see what we would do.

 

I suddenly realized something as I took in the ruins around us. McCormick said I had destroyed her research, but I had this sinking feeling that maybe it included the mutants who had already been held here. How many innocents had gotten hurt? We couldn’t leave without helping them.

 

“We can’t leave,” I said. ““When I…well…did all of this, I couldn’t control myself and there was all this fear and I don’t know now if it was just the guards or if I hurt the mutants who were….”

 

“They are held in a separate wing,” Nakia said, cutting off my guilty stream. “You didn’t hurt any of them. In fact, you disrupted the power generator.”

 

“What does that mean?” I asked.

 

“Some of them are already out,” she replied. “That’s where most of their guards are.” 

 

She had moved to T’Challa’s right flank and this close I noticed that there was a slight swelling below her left cheek. What had happened after I was separated from her?

 

“Ok,” McCormick said, seeming to make a decision. “I’m not going to stand outside all day. Number 29, retrieve Number 65.”

 

Number 29 turned to frown at her, his hands clenching at his sides. She stared back at him expectantly. When he gave no indication that he was going to move, her eyes narrowed and she slipped out the silver remote from her pocket.

 

Shit.

 

“T’Challa, put me down.”

 

He ignored me and I began wiggling, letting out a frustrated breath when his arms tightened.

 

“Be still, Jenna,” he commanded, his gaze on Number 29.

 

“Let me talk to him,” I hissed. “We can’t fight him.”

 

“Chill, I got this,” Erik said, seeming almost…excited.

 

“That’s what I’m afraid of!” I snapped, glaring at him.

 

He arched a brow at me and T’Challa frowned and finally let his gaze drift down to meet mine.

 

“None of them want to be here, T’Challa,” I hissed. “None of them have a choice in this.”

 

“Yes, he held back much restraint,” he replied dryly.

 

I stilled, staring at him in surprise. Was he referring to my earlier fight with Number 29?

 

“You saw that?” I asked.

 

“I saw everything,” he said. “We hacked into their security systems when we arrived.”

 

His warmth had withdrawn and he was that controlled calm again. I had never seen such fury in his eyes. I cupped his face with one hand and held his gaze firmly.

 

“Please,” I said softly. “Everyone has been controlling me today. Please, just let me do this.”

 

Number 29 was facing us, but I could sense that angry resignation in him. Erik shifted to step in front of us, rolling the sword lazily in his hand. His dark excitement was putting me on edge. Whether he could take Number 29 or not, I didn’t know. But I didn’t want them to fight. Not if I could help it.

 

T’Challa saw the desperation in my eyes and pushed out a frustrated breath. Then he loosened his hold and I was able to slide out of his arms and onto my feet. I still had to steady myself by gripping his bicep and had to take a few deep breaths before turning to the impending match.

 

“We need to get his collar off,” I said. “It’s how they’re controlling them.”

 

T’Challa lifted his wrist and I watched with interest as he pressed something on it. The wrist of his suit light up in flashes of purple and I blinked.

 

“What are you doing?” I asked.

 

“The collars are controlled by a network server,” he said and I watched as he typed through a few hologram screens. “We have control of it, so we should…there.”

 

He tapped something and a light blinked on the screen before he dropped his arm.

 

“What did you just do?” I asked.

 

“I shut down the server that controls the collars.”

 

“All of them?” I asked, startled.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Just like that?”

 

He gave me an almost haughty look.

 

“Wakanda technology is the most advanced in the world,” he sniffed. “I told you we were able to hack in within minutes of arriving here.”

 

“Ok, chill,” I muttered. “And thanks.”

 

T’Challa just looked at me and I sighed. There was so much to unpack from what happened today, but one crisis at a time.  It took some effort, but I managed to limp forward, ignoring the scowl that Erik gave me as I reached him. I had to grip his arm to keep myself steady and he opened his mouth to say something.

 

“Before you say something really hurtful,” I said to him. “Just know that I’ve had a really shitty day and it’d be very mean to make it worse. And I’ll tell Shae.”

 

“You ain’t even met her,” he grumbled.

 

“It’d still make her mad, wouldn’t it?”

 

He gave me a look and I couldn’t help the weak grin I gave him. I was guessing Shae wouldn’t want him bothering me, but it was a good thing to remember. He eyed me as I stepped past him, approaching Number 29 who was frowning at me. It was slow progress, but I was willing to use the last of my energy to try.

 

“Good,” McCormick sighed. “Finally. Number 29 bring her here.”

 

“Does she ever shut up?” I muttered when I reached Number 29.

 

“No,” he said. “It’s part of the torture.”

 

I studied him, noting that he was still willing to have humor. He made no move to touch me as he gazed down at me, his hands clenched at his sides. I was shaking with my efforts of standing up, but I managed.

 

“You should have stayed with your friends, sweetheart,” he said.

 

“We deactivated your collar,” I said, ignoring his comment.

 

Number 29 blinked at me, startled.

 

“What?”

 

“Your collar,” I explained. “We turned it off.”

 

He stared at me in wary disbelief, his hand coming up as if he was going to touch his collar before dropping it. He gazed down at his hands and flexed them slightly.

 

“How?” he asked suspiciously.

 

“Wakanda technology,” I said, nodding towards T’Challa. “Best in the world. They managed to shut down all the collars.”

 

“Wakanda?”

 

It was my turn to give him a startled look.

 

“You haven’t heard of Wakanda?” I asked, frowning at him. “Most advanced nation in the world? Secluded in Africa? It was all over the news.”

 

“Didn’t give us a lot of tv time while I was in there,” he retorted.

 

“Shit, sorry,” I mumbled. “Look. Just trust me ok? We can get you and everyone out of here.”

 

“Then what?”

 

The question gave me pause and I finally shrugged. I hated that the simple move hurt.

 

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m kind of making this up as I go.”

 

Number 29 snorted and shook his head before glancing over my shoulder.

 

“Don’t look like your boyfriend is too happy about this,” he commented.

 

“He’s fine,” I said assuredly. “He always looks that serious.”

 

I felt a flicker of exasperation from T’Challa and I had to wonder if he had heard me. Considering what I knew about his abilities, I wouldn’t be surprised.

 

“Number 29!” McCormick sang angrily. “I’m waiting!”

 

He turned to give her a look and she scowled at him, the silver remote still aimed at him.

 

“You sure?” he asked, though he kept his gaze forward. “That he turned it off?”

 

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m sure.”

 

If T’Challa said it was done, then I wasn’t going to second guess it. He knew what he was doing.

 

“Then go,” he said. “I’ll handle this.”

 

I shook my head, frowning.

 

“No,” I said. “No, we can help you and…”

 

“Girl, you can barely stand,” he said dryly, eying me. “You ain’t gonna be no help around here.”

 

McCormick was pressing the button and at Number 29’s lack of reaction, a swell of panic was beginning to surge in her. Number 29 was smiling now, a smile that had her taking a step back. Guns were cocking and I tentatively prodded internally to see if I would be able to draw upon my inner power. I could feel the warmth spread underneath my skin, but I also felt a wave of tingling pain. Damnit, this wasn’t going to work.

 

“You can’t take them all on your own,” I insisted, sensing his surge of excitement.

 

“I don’t know,” Number 29 mused, “you seem to be my lucky charm today.”

 

“The collars aren’t working!” McCormick cried.

 

McCormick’s words started the armed guards into action, and they readied their rifles. With me too weak to throw up my shields, I realized that for the first time, I was unsure what to do with a loaded gun aimed at me.

 

“Jenna, get down!”

 

It was T’Challa’s voice that shouted the command, but Number 29 was the one who slammed into me when gunshots went off. We crashed to the ground, his body shielding me, and I yelped in pain from the force. I heard shouts, but everything was muffled by the mountain of a man who covered me.

 

It was odd, but I had the sudden sensation that I was falling and I heard the distant sound of T’Challa calling my name.

 

___________________

*Yima – Be still


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

 

Our sudden fall was a short one and Number 29’s weight settled heavily on top of me when we settled with a hard thump.

 

I was so over this day.

 

“It worked! Holy shit it worked!”

 

I heard the excited cry but was too focused on the large body that felt like it was crushing me.

 

“Get. Off,“ I hissed.

 

It took him a second, but Number 29 rolled himself off of me to lie on his back. I blinked slowly, my head still throbbing and felt a familiar wave of nausea. Weakly, I struggled to sit up and take in my surroundings. It looked like we were in a control room. There were monitors along the wall and two unconscious guards lay not too far from us. Some of the screens were out, but on one of them, I could see that doors were open and people were running free in the hallways.

 

I shifted and spotted a woman standing near the open door of the room. She was dressed in a simple white uniform, bandages wrapped tightly around her eyes. She had a collar around her neck and what looked to be a dented pole in her hand. She held it ready and I wondered if that was how the guards were taken out. 

 

“Leave him be, Owen,” the woman said. “He will heal.”

 

I turned to see that a young man was nudging Number 29, who was breathing heavily. Owen was tall and lanky, his fiery red hair curled on top of his head, his face flush beneath his freckles. He too wore a collar on his neck as well. Mutants then, both of them. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead, but I could sense a feeling of triumph coming from him.

 

“I did it, Lydia!” he said, turning his attention to the woman. “You told me I could, but I didn’t think I could and…”

 

“Excuse me,” I said tersely.

 

“But I can’t believe they shot him,” Owen continued. “I mean I know he can heal and everything but…”

 

“Hey!”

 

My sharp word finally cut off his stream and he flushed as he looked at me.

 

“What the hell is going on?” I demanded.

 

Owen turned to look at the woman uncertainly. The woman sighed, before lowering her weapon slightly.

 

“My name is Lydia and this Owen,” she said. “And the man who you refer to as Number 29 is Arthur.”

 

“How the hell do you know my name?” Arthur snapped.

 

“We found your file on one of the computers,” Owen said, pointing. “Ah…when they weren’t busted.”

 

The computer in question was destroyed, the monitor crushed under the weight of one of the guards. Arthur pushed himself up slowly and rolled his shoulders. He didn’t seem injured in the slightest and Owen hopped away as he moved to stand up.

 

“I would assume that your name is the least you could give us,” Lydia replied. “Given the circumstances.”

 

Arthur grunted and Owen grinned. I narrowed my eyes at them. I wanted to move, but my body still wasn’t responding how I wanted to do. I had never felt more drained in my life, but that didn’t keep my anger from simmering.

 

“Why. Am. I. Here,” I demanded slowly.

 

Lydia inclined her head at me slightly.

 

“You are injured,” she remarked. “And require sleep.”

 

“That doesn’t answer my question!”

 

“No, it doesn’t,” she responded. “But we do not have time.”

 

She was making her way further into the room, her hands feeling along the wall. Owen went to her side immediately and grasped her hand, helping her along. Arthur saw my look and shrugged.

 

“They blinded her,” he said, and my mouth fell open in shock.

 

“Tried to blind me,” she corrected. “It was just temporary.”

 

“Is that what they told you?” Arthur retorted.

 

“We don’t have time for this,” she hissed. “Arthur, please we need your help. Hers too.”

 

Lydia and Owen were coming closer to me and I struggled to move, intent on getting out of the way.

 

“She’s here,” Owen said.

 

I realized then that he was leading her to me and before I could react, her hand shot out and gripped my arm.

 

“Please,” she said. “We need you to come with us.”

 

“She’s got folks here,” Arthur said casually.

 

Lydia’s grip tightened and I weakly tried to pull from her grip. I could sense her fear and panic, but also a hardened determination. Still, she was in my personal space and I was getting tired of that being intruded upon.

 

“Let go,” I said, my hand covering her own. “Now.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I know this doesn’t make sense but we need you and we can’t stay here.”

 

Then with a quickness I wasn’t expecting, she lifted her other hand and pressed two fingers against my forehead. 

 

To my extreme frustration, I once again fell into darkness.

 

______________________________

 

I dreamt of the day when I first felt truly alone. The feeling was deep as if I’d never feel whole again. But more than the loneliness was the sorrow I felt the day of my father’s funeral. I was still young, but I could understand that my daddy was never coming home.

 

I didn’t realize, at the time, that the pain would trigger the abilities in me that had laid dormant. Surrounded by so much grief, my young mind responded in the only way I knew how. I created my first shield, and the inability to reach me due to an unseen force horrified and confused my mother. Dressed in all-black for the funeral, my mother’s eyes were already red from tears as she pleaded with me in my dark bedroom.

 

“Jenna,” my mother said. “Please, just…just stop whatever you’re doing.”

 

I could only sob in response, overwhelmed by the sorrow and fear that was palpable in the room. I didn’t realize that I was impacted not just by own feelings but by mother’s as well.

She stepped forward and was quickly rebuffed by my shield again. She was shaking now and curled her hands against her chest. Fear shifted slightly into anger as she stared at me. 

 

“Jenna, that’s enough!”

 

I cringed at the fury I could feel in her voice and felt my hands begin to glow. My mother took a step back, recoiling in disgust.

 

“What are you?” she whispered.

 

I felt a pain I’d never felt before at her words. It made me curl into myself and I felt the power grow in response. It was comforting—the only comfort I had felt in a long time.

 

“She’s a child,” a firm voice retorted. “Who needs her mother right now.”

 

My grandmother strode into my room, sparing my mother a disapproving glance before turning gentle eyes to me. She too was dressed for the somber day, but had her head held high as she stepped towards me. When she touched my shield, I felt her surprise and confusion.

 

“She keeps doing that,” my mother said, wringing her hands. “And look at her hands!”

 

My grandmother studied me, and I gazed at her through teary eyes. The energy around my hands pulsed slightly, but I didn’t know what to do with it. Being in her presence had me relaxing slightly.

 

Her hands stroked gently along my barrier, taking the time to regain her composure.

 

“Well now,” she finally murmured. “I had always said you were something special, didn’t I?”

 

I blinked at her and my mother spared her a glance. My grandmother met my gaze and smiled gently.

 

“Why you hiding behind there, hon?” she asked.

 

“I want my daddy.”

 

“Ah,” she said, nodding. “Yes, I know. We all gonna miss your daddy. But sometimes, the Lord takes folks before we’re ready. But He always makes sure we got someone who’s still here with us.”

 

My grandmother gave a pointed look to my mother, who looked away. I felt a flare of guilt come from her, but she said nothing.

 

“Even if it’s not who we think it should be,” my grandmother continued.

 

She was calm now and dropped her hands from my shield. There was a sadness to her, but it wasn’t overwhelming. For the first time, I felt the warm, bright pulse that was my grandmother. It was something that would always be comforting to me and I responded to it slowly.

 

“Jenna,” she said gently. “Come on out now.”

 

I shook my head.

 

“It hurts,” I whispered. “Everything hurts.”

 

“I know,” she said soothingly. “And it’ll hurt for a while still. But you won’t be alone.”

 

“Genine, I can’t…” my mother started.

 

“Hush,” my grandmother retorted quickly. “It’s not about you right now.”

 

My mother quieted and my grandmother returned her attention to me.

 

“Jenna,” she said gently. “Come here, sweetheart. I’ll look after you.”

 

I believed her. I had no reason not to. I had always loved staying with my grandparents and had vague memories of my grandfather reading to me while she cooked in the kitchen. So, despite my pain, my shields lowered. I didn’t have control over it at the time, but I had soon discovered that when I intuitively felt safe, it would go away on its own. The glow of my hands subsided, and she strode towards me, bending down so I could slide into her lap. I wrapped my arms around her and buried my face into her chest, clinging to her as my sobs overwhelmed me.

 

My mother watched us, still shaken.

 

“I can’t, Genine,” my mother whispered. “She’s isn’t… and with him gone….and now this? I just can’t…”

 

My grandmother said nothing, and I heard my mother stumble out of the room, taking her pain and sorrow with her. Back then, I didn’t know or understand that my mother was walking away from me too.

 

“You know,” my grandmother murmured. “Your granddaddy was just like you.” 

 

I sniffled and looked up at her, my eye wide.

 

“Really?”

 

“Mmhmm,” she said, smiling down at me. “He had a way of shaping things, with just a touch. It’s why he loved building so much.”

 

She wiped at my tears gently and tapped my nose gently.

 

“And you, Jenna?” she asked, smiling. “God put the sun in you, child. And that’s a gift that you should never be ashamed of.”

 

She hugged me, her words fierce. My grandmother believed in me and that belief overrode any fear that she may have had at my abilities.

 

I had often wondered though.

 

The sun was a source of light, yes. But didn’t it also burn?

 

_______________________

 

The dream was heavy with memories of the past and left me unsettled as I woke slowly. I still felt sore and aching, and my back was killing me. I realized someone had thrown a scratchy blanket over me and that I was resting on an old mattress on the floor.

 

I was getting really tired of waking up in unfamiliar places.

 

As I lay flat on my back, I kept my eyes closed as I ran a hand across my brows.

 

“Hey,” a feminine voice said. “You’re awake.”

 

I finally opened my eyes and turned to see a young woman I had never seen before, smiling at me. Her blue hair was in a short pixie cut and she wore a tattered sweatshirt with a unicorn on the front and a pair of black jeans with combat boots. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor and looked to have a pad and paper in her lap. I glanced at it and frowned, but she laughed.

 

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I wasn’t drawing you. Just doodling random things, you know?”

 

“Where am I?”

 

My throat felt scratchy and I let out a small cough after forcing out the words.

 

“Oh, right you must be thirsty,” she said and rose to her feet. “You’ve been out for two days so…”

 

“What?!”

 

She paused at my startled outburst and then gave me a sheepish grin.

 

“Sorry, should have broken that to you more gently.”

 

I was attempting to push myself up to a standing position, but I felt a bout of dizziness and resettled.

 

“You’re still weak,” she said. “You should probably take it easy.”

 

I stared at her, my hands flexing in my lap. I couldn’t draw on my powers without feeling strain as it made the muscles in my shoulders and back twitch. I stopped trying and pushed out a breath.

 

“What did she do to me?” I demanded.

 

“Who?”

 

“I don’t know… the blind lady who knocked me out.”

 

What was her name again?

 

“Oh, you mean Lydia,” she said, nodding. “My name is Haley, by the way.”

 

I stared at her pointedly and she blinked before shaking her head.

 

“Right, sorry, yeah she didn’t knock you out. She put a suggestion in your mind to fall asleep.”

 

“What?”

 

“Um…it’s kind of mental manipulation,” Haley explained. “But putting a suggestion makes her weak. And she had to keep doing it to keep you from waking up. At least until we got somewhere safe. It left her pretty weak though.”

 

Haley watched as I struggled to my feet before leaning heavily against the wall. My stomach lurched, but I forced myself to stay upright. 

 

“We’re not going to hurt you,” she offered as I stood there, breathing heavily.

 

“Right,” I retorted, “But given the circumstances, I’m not in the mood for trusting strangers. Especially ones who knock me out without asking for permission or telling me why the hell they did it in the first place.”

 

“Oh,” she said and gave me a weak smile. “Maybe some water would help?”

 

I opened my mouth to let her know how I felt about that suggestion when a sudden crash shook the floorboards. We both looked at one another and it was a relief to know that I wasn’t the only one who was confused anymore.

 

“Haley!”

 

Haley rushed out of the room and I cursed my weakened state as I struggled after her. As I exited the room I realized we were in what seemed to be an abandoned house. There were boards covering the windows in the hall and I noticed Haley rushing down a creaky staircase. By the time I made it to the stairwell banister, she was already out of sight. I leaned over the banister, trying to listen and jumped as a large figure went flying through front foyer before slamming into the wall near the front door. I blinked down at him and realized it was Number 29…no, Arthur, wasn’t it?

 

He was scowling as he pushed himself out of his makeshift hole and dusted his shirt of wooden debris.

 

“Hey!”

 

He blinked and looked up, spotting me leaning over the banister. Another crash sounded and I could hear the sounds of a scuffle happening in the lower level.

 

“What’s going on?” I asked.

 

“Your boyfriend’s here,” he muttered. “And he don’t seem in the mood to talk.”

 

“Wait what?” I gasped.

 

But Arthur was already walking out of sight, cracking his knuckles.

 

“Damnit, hang on!”

 

I summoned whatever strength I had to make my way down the stairs and steadied myself when another crash was so strong, I felt the wall I was leaning on shake. I pushed on and finally stumbled into the front hall. The crashes came from another room, one that was much more open as one of the walls had been torn down. I spotted Haley helping Lydia to her feet, their gazes trained on the other side of the room. The young man stood next to him, his brows furrowed as he hopped from one foot to another, watching the situation in front of him.

 

Arthur was pushing himself up from where he had crashed into the wall, the impact hard enough that the wooden boards had splintered behind him. And standing in front of him was a figure dressed in a familiar black suit and posed for the next strike.

 

“T’Challa!”

 

He turned at the call of his name and then had to shift quickly when Arthur charged at him. T’Challa leaped over him neatly and twisted midair to slam a firm kick into Arthur’s back, having him fly forwards again. Arthur recovered quickly and steadied his footing before turning to face his opponent. He scowled at T’Challa, who had extended his claws, and crouched, waiting.

 

“Hey, hold on,” I cried when Arthur moved towards him again. “Stop!”

 

It was instinct to throw out a burst of energy when he ignored me. It wasn’t much but it was enough that it slammed into both of them. And made my vision spin before I slumped down to the ground. The weak pulse wasn’t enough to knock either of them off their feet though. T’Challa turned sharply before pausing upon seeing me slumped on the floor. His mask dissolved as he approached me and then crouched in front of me.

 

“Are you all right?” he asked.

 

“Just peachy,” I mumbled and he frowned.

 

“He’s not supposed to be here,” the young man said nervously. “I…I don’t know how…”

 

“Chill out, Owen,” Haley. “How did he get here anyway?”

 

“I don’t…I don’t know,” Owen said.

 

“You were followed,” Arthur grunted.

 

Owen shot Arthur a panicked look.

 

“I couldn’t have…I mean…I might have used my portal…but I got nervous on the way back, so I figured if I just walked, I’d look normal, but I didn’t think anyone would…. “

 

“It’s fine, Owen,” Lydia interrupted gently. “You did fine.”

 

“How did you find me?” I asked T’Challa softly. “I mean…you obviously followed him, so I guess how did you know to find him?”

 

“It seems that whenever the child opens a portal, it has a distinct energy signature. He has been using a few around this area and we noticed that he frequents the same location. I knew that if I waited for him to appear, I could follow him.” 

 

“Hey, I’m not a child,” Owen said, bristling slightly. “I’m fifteen.”

 

T’Challa arched a brow at him and Owen scowled.

 

“I told you,” Arthur sighed, “never hit the same place twice, kid.”

 

“How was I supposed to know he was tracking me?” Owen insisted. “When we got out of town I thought we’d be ok!”

 

“Wait, we’re not in Chicago anymore?” I asked, startled.

 

“No,” T’Challa replied.

 

“Why?” I demanded.

 

“Because the further we get away from that place, the more likely we are to be safe,” Haley said.

 

“Safe?” Arthur snorted. “We ain’t safe…”

 

“Then why are you still here?” Haley retorted. “You didn’t have to come along, you know.”

 

“Haley,” Lydia said quietly.

 

“No, it’s true,” Haley said. “He’s just been complaining the whole time. Then he disappears at night and we don’t ever know where…”

 

“I’m a grown man,” Arthur snarled, “I don’t have to tell you…”

 

“Enough.”

 

The innate authority that came with T’Challa’s tone caused the bickering to stop at once. Even Arthur hesitated at the look on T’Challa’s face.

 

“I do not know for what purposes you took her,” T’Challa said, “but she is coming with me. I have no other business with you.”

 

Lydia stepped forward and I realized that her bandages were replaced with a pair of sunglasses now. There was a wooden cane in her hand, and it thumped against the floorboards as she stepped forwards.

 

“I understand,” she murmured. “I am aware that none of this has been handled well.”

 

“You think?” I muttered and she sighed.

 

“I am truly sorry about the circumstances,” she said, “but I cannot apologize for taking you. At the time, and even now, you are an essential part of our group.”

 

Arthur muttered something under his breath, but Lydia ignored him.

 

“Please,” she said, her voice soft. “Just hear us out.”

 

There was something about the energy in the room that had me glancing around. None of them seemed eager to fight anymore. They were either dejected, angry or lost. I spared a glance at Owen, who had come to stand next to Haley, and he flushed when my gaze landed on him. He reached up a hand to his neck and then hesitated before dropping it and looking away. There was crisscross of scars on the pale skin and when I looked at Haley, I could see them on her neck too. Hadn’t I said that I wanted to help them before? I mean…I hadn’t meant abduction but…

 

Damnit.

 

“T’Challa,” I murmured.

 

He looked at me, frowning at my expression. I knew he understood what I was going to ask.

 

“You have been missing for two days, Jenna,” he said curtly.

 

“I know.”

 

“I am not pleased with this.”

 

“Yeah,” I said, smiling slightly. “I got that.”

 

He inhaled deeply before letting the breath out in a sigh and returning his attention to Lydia.

 

“You have ten minutes,” he said.

 

“Just ten?” Haley asked, startled. “That’s not…”

 

“Nine.”

 

I nudged T’Challa slightly, but he ignored me.

 

“Very well,” Lydia, said. “I will be frank then. We have all been prisoners in that place for far too long. Some of us even more so.”

 

I glanced at Arthur, but he simply raised a brow at me. He was leaning against the wall, his arms bulging as he crossed his arm. Still angry and still attempting to be removed. I could see why Haley was confused about his presence; for all appearances, Arthur seemed displeased by being here.

 

“They experimented on us, tortured us, pushed us to limits that we didn’t know we had. And all the while, we were kept separate and isolated from any contact. Except for the few who were favorites, of course.”

 

She gestured around the room with a hand.

 

“Over time our caretakers allowed us a bit of freedom. There was an open cell area that they allowed us to communicate with one another.”

 

“To keep the morale up,” Haley mumbled.

 

The weight of the combined pain in the room was stifling. I could feel them, their sorrow, their rage….it had my empty stomach clenching.

 

“Yes,” Lydia said. “But it is only available for those who had proved themselves. After all, we would one day be transferred to his ‘pet collection.’” 

 

I vaguely remembered being told I would make a great addition to such a collection. I curled my hands into fists.

 

“His?” I asked. “You mean Fervis?”

 

“Is that his name?” Lydia mused. “I was never told. We were only to refer to him as ‘Master’.”

 

“That’s fucked up,” I muttered.

 

There was a muttered agreement throughout the room.

 

“In any case,” she continued, “My abilities are not just mental manipulation. I can see the future as well. However, the future is a tricky thing. It can change from moment to moment, all because people’s minds may change and make new decisions. But I kept having the same vision over and over again. A vision of a woman and a bright light, who would help us escape. I did not want to risk telling them of this, though they were monitoring me.”

 

“What do you mean?” I asked.

 

“I was hooked up to a machine that monitored my brain waves. Any disruption signaled a vision and I was required that I give specific details of what I saw. No matter how often the visions may change. But this particular vision was the only one I kept having after a time. And when I lied and things were not matching up well…”

 

She waved a hand towards her face and gave a sardonic smile.

 

“They blinded me, telling me that perhaps not relying on my physical sight would help.”

 

Owen was twisting the ends of his shirt, his leg shaking rapidly and Hayley glared down at the ground, her hands shoved under her armpits.

 

“This does not matter now,” she continued. “And even though we are free, we are still targets. There was much time and experimentation invested in the development of our powers. You may have destroyed their lab, but that only set them back. We were never intended for the market. We were intended to be crafted into weapons.”

 

Lydia took another step forward, her feet shuffling slightly along the ground.

 

“That is why we need you, Jenna,” she said, “you are the strongest mutant I know. My vision of you came true. It was you who saved us. And if you stay with us…”

 

“I don’t know how to control my powers,” I interrupted, “I mean…not enough to do what I did before.”

 

She paused, frowning.

 

“What do you mean?” she asked hesitantly.

 

“I’ve never gone nuclear like that,” I explained. “And I don’t know if I can do it again. I don’t know if I want to.”

 

“You have to!”

 

I glanced at Owen, startled by his outburst. His gaze was fierce as he met my gaze.

 

“You have to help us,” he insisted. “We never would have gotten out if it wasn’t for you. And we can stop them if you…”

 

“Owen,” Lydia said, but he shook his head.

 

“It’s true, isn’t it?” he demanded. “They’ll never hurt anyone else if we stop them and she can…”

 

“Who says she wants to?” Arthur interrupted. “This ain’t her problem.”

 

I felt a flicker of annoyance and a wave of guilt.

 

“You don’t know me,” I snapped at him.

 

“Yeah? You don’t know us either,” he retorted. “Sure you were talking big before, but given all the shit you went through I wouldn’t be surprised if you and your King boyfriend left without a look back.”

 

“King?!” Haley asked, startled, her gaze focusing on T’Challa. “You’re a King? King of what?”

 

“Wake something,” Arthur said.

 

“Wakanda,” I corrected dryly.

 

“Whatever,” Arthur said. “But I’m right, ain’t I? You don’t give a shit about any of this?”

 

He was giving T’Challa a hard look, who returned it evenly. But underneath, the first licks of that rage surged. T’Challa was not a fan of Arthur’s.

 

“You are correct,” T’Challa said, “this is not Wakanda’s concern.” 

 

“You must understand…”

 

“We need…”

 

“You can’t just…” 

 

“However,” T’Challa said, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the flurry of protests. “The leader of this organization has committed crimes against Wakanda that requires justice.”

 

There was a pregnant pause as everyone stared at us.

 

“So,” Owen said hesitantly, “that means you’ll help us?”

 

“Our goals are aligned,” he responded, “for the moment.”

 

“So, that’s a yes?” Owen asked hopefully.

 

T’Challa studied him for a moment; long enough that Owen shifted under his gaze.

 

“Yes, child,” he said finally. “We will help you.”

 

“I’m not a child!”

 

‘Yeah’, I thought, gazing at the scars on Owen’s neck, ‘you are. And that just makes this whole situation even worse.’

 

——————————

 

The abandoned house was surrounded by so much forestry that I wondered how the hell we had gotten so far away that we were practically removed from city life. I peered out of the only non-boarded window in the front room, taking in the quiet lakefront and wondered if we were even in Illinois anymore.

 

“I’m so over this shit,” I muttered.

 

“I can share that sentiment.” 

 

I glanced at T’Challa, who stood next to me, his arms crossed as he gazed out the window. Haley was helping Lydia into the backseat of a pickup truck and Owen was helping organize supplies with Arthur.

 

“I’m sorry,” I said softly.

 

T’Challa glanced at me, frowning.

 

“For what?”

 

“All of this, I guess,” I said. “Fervis got away because of me.”

 

T’Challa gazed at me long enough that I hunched my shoulders and scowled at him.

 

“What?” I snapped.

 

“I am just trying to understand how you believe this to all be your fault.”

 

I huffed out a breath and waved a hand vaguely.

 

“Well, I don’t know,” I muttered, “Maybe it’s the attempted abduction and then the actual abduction, then the getting locked in the bad guy’s lair and also blowing up bad guy’s lair, while said bad guy escaped and then getting abducted again and…”

 

“Jenna.”

 

“…and while I didn’t want any of this to happen, it seems everyone has me on their fucking list some fucking reason…”

 

“Jenna.”

 

“…..and you have to admit that this isn’t a good start on our relationship, the whole you saving me even though I’m sure you have more important things to do and…”

 

T’Challa pulled me into his arms suddenly, the action cutting off my stream of words. He brushed his lips against the shell of my ear and I slowly melted against him. The familiar warmth of his energy brushed against mine and I closed my eyes.

 

“There is nothing to be sorry for, entle,” he murmured. “It is Fervis who must pay for his crimes. Not you.”

 

“But…”

 

“And I agree,” he continued, “the circumstances surrounding our relationship have not been favorable. That too, is not your fault.”

 

I shifted back slightly, and he loosened his hold around me, his gaze holding mine. 

 

“I don’t blame you for how any of this turned out,” he said.

 

“You sure? Cause you seemed a bit pissed off since you got here.”

 

“Not angry,” he said, shaking his head. “Just concerned.”

 

“So, you’re not mad?” I asked softly.

 

“Not with you.”

 

I glanced over his shoulder, spotting Owen climbing up into the bed of the truck. Arthur was saying something to Haley through the passenger window.

 

“What about them?”

 

T’Challa followed my attention to the others outside.

 

“We will help them find shelter for the time being,” he said, “and I am still making considerations on what shall come next.”

 

“They don’t seem that bad,” I commented.

 

T’Challa raised a skeptical brow.

 

“Ok,” I hedged, “aside from the abduction. But they never made any attempts to hurt me.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

I blinked and inclined my head at him.

 

“What’s that ‘hmm’ supposed to mean?” I asked.

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

“T…”

 

He sighed and dropped his arms from around me.

 

“It means that I am less inclined to trust them,” he said, “and their intentions when it comes to you.”

 

I watched as he crossed his arms, his energy becoming closed from me.

 

“Does it matter if I do?” I asked quietly.

 

T’Challa studied me for a moment, his face neutral.

 

“That easily?” he questioned, “I remember you being more reserved in giving out your trust.”

 

I wasn’t sure, but it almost felt like a dig, though his face didn’t change. He was right though – in the past, I would have never given them so much room. But things were different now.

 

“Look, I’m not saying let’s jump all in or whatever,” I admitted, “but they’re scared and hurt. I can feel all of that.”

 

“Yes,” he said, “they are in much pain.”

 

I cocked my head at him, trying to read what he wasn’t saying.

 

“So then…” I hedged, “you agree with me about trusting them?”

 

“No.”

 

I gave him an exasperated look and crossed my own arms, mimicking his stance.

 

“You mind telling me why?”

 

T’Challa turned to look out the window again, his expression still closed.

 

“I know that you feel you can relate to their plight,” he said, “given that you share their experience of being a mutant. And I do believe that they wish for vengeance against Fervis and the crimes he has committed against them.”

 

“Yeah,” I said, “I mean, you’ve been going on about Wakandan justice. It’s pretty much the same thing.”

 

“No,” he said, “it is not. We have our laws in Wakanda that he will be judged and punished by. I do not believe that is their aim or that they would be satisfied with our taking him to Wakanda.”

 

I furrowed my brows, still sensing there was something under the surface.

 

“What are you trying to say, T’Challa?”

 

He regarded me closely for a moment. It was an assessing gaze that I had to force myself to return.

 

“Do you have concerns on how far they are willing to go to get their vengeance? What the costs will be?”

 

“They just want to stop him and his organization,” I said, “and they want me…well…us to help him.”

 

“And how do you think they will want to stop him? To repay him for the pain that he has caused them?”

 

I sighed and threw up my hands in frustration.

 

“I don’t know!”

 

“You do, Jenna,” he said patiently, “you just don’t want to admit it.”

 

I waved a hand outside, frustrated.

 

“Look at them, T’Challa,” I argued, “do they look like killers to you? They’re just scared and hurt and…”

 

“Never underestimate what pain will push someone to do, Jenna,” he said, “what revenge will turn you into.”

 

It was unsettling. It’s not that I had committed to such an idea…but…but there was a part of me that had considered permanent solution to Fervis. What he had done to them and to me…

 

I didn’t know about enough about what Wakandan law to know if it’d be enough.

 

“I’m not going to kill Fervis,” I said, my fingers digging into my arms.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Are you?” I snapped back.

 

We stared at one another and I could feel my temper simmering under the surface. I wasn’t sure if I was angry at him or myself.

 

“Why are you picking a fight with me?” I asked finally.

 

“I am not trying to,” he assured me, “I just want you to think.”

 

I rubbed a hand across my temples.

 

“I’m exhausted and hungry and need a shower and you’re challenging me on this now?”

 

“The circumstances are not optimal,” he agreed, “but there will be times when you will need to make important decisions under stress.”

 

“What?” I asked, baffled. “Why?”

 

“Because it will be your duty as Queen to be more discerning in who you trust and the decisions you make, Jenna,” he said, “and that often means looking past your emotions.”

 

His words shocked me to silence, which was just as well. A pair of headlights were shining down the road and he nodded.

 

“Good,” he said, “Nakia is here. She made good time.”

 

I just continued to stare at him, my mind still reeling by his words. T’Challa inclined his head at me, a small smirk forming.

 

“I will have to remember that is one way to keep you quiet,” he mused.

 

I snapped my mouth shut and glared at him, my face warm.

 

“Keep making jokes,” I growled, “and it won’t just be my silence you get.”

 

“There’s no need to be angry,” he teased, “I told you a while ago what my intentions are when it comes to courting you.”

 

Yeah. I still remembered the very serious explanation as to why T’Challa didn’t believe he was wasting his time having a relationship with me. And the also very serious considerations for what that meant.

 

“It’s not a done deal, T’Challa,” I insisted, my face growing hotter the more his smirk grew.

 

“We shall see.”

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

 

“I will never underestimate the power of a great bath,” I groaned, “ever.”

 

It was the first thing I did when we finally got to the hotel that was a few hours’ drive from the little “safe house.” It was a stark difference from the house we just left, and I had shared the same expression of awe and relief with Owen and Haley when we walked into the front lobby. I didn’t even want to know the price tag for the current suite I was in. Once I had bathed and soaked to my heart’s content, I had donned a fluffy, white robe; the material soft and comforting against my clean skin. Nakia had arrived at the same time as room service and had offered to help me with the post-wash of my hair. She had brought some of my clothes and hair supplies and while I dug into my food, she started working on my hair. I sat stationed between her legs on the floor as she sat on the bed and continued applying the right amount of jojoba oil that would keep my locs looking fresh with reduced frizz.

 

Nakia hummed at my comment as she massaged my clean scalp with the oil, her fingers working down the locs of my hair.  

 

“I was on a mission once,” she murmured, “where my cover was a young woman in a nearby village. I was tracking some sex traffickers and the conditions at the village where they held the women didn’t have access to clean water. They were only bathed when they were transported.”

 

“Really?”  I asked, “that must have been horrible.”

 

“It was,” she said. “But at least I could escape if I wanted to. The women there could not. Not until we stopped the men that were taking them.”

 

I reflected silently on her somber words as she continued working on my hair.

 

“So you think it’s a good idea then?” I asked. “That I insisted that T’Challa bring them with us?”

 

I could still remember the exchange that I had with T’Challa prior to Nakia’s arrival. His urgings to think past an emotional response and assess the situation more clearly. It had made me angry, and I still wasn’t sure if it was because he seemed to guess at my darker thoughts. Or maybe it was because he was showing he wouldn't agree with it.

 

“T’Challa would not have allowed this if he did not have a plan in mind,” she replied.

 

I vaguely wondered if she would have made the same call if our roles were reversed. I kept the thought to myself and took a bite of scalloped potatoes. It was my third plate, but I didn't care. I felt like I hadn’t eaten for days.

 

“Are you having second thoughts?” she asked suddenly.

 

I leaned my head further back in her lap and squinted up at her.

 

“How do you guys do that?” I asked.

 

“Do what?”

 

“Guess what I’m thinking when I don’t say it. Both you and T’Challa always manage to do that.”

 

She grinned and gently pushed my head back in the proper position.

 

“Some things about you haven’t changed, I guess,” she said. “And I have to admit, it makes me happy.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I feel as if I was as close to you as I was before.”

 

I chewed on a buttered roll, pondering that. Her fingers were doing a nice massage to my scalp and it felt wonderful.

 

“Jenna?”

 

“Hmm?” I asked with a mouthful of roll.

 

“I am sorry.”

 

“You’ve already apologized,” I said nonchalantly, “we’re good.”

 

She gave my shoulders a squeeze and then shifted, moving so that she could move to sit next to me. I blinked at her serious expression.

 

“When we were separated, I knew that I couldn’t protect you,” she said, “and although you’ve been training there was a part of me that felt it wouldn’t be enough.”

 

She clasped her hands loosely in her lap, her eyes flickering to the marks on my neck.

 

“I knew that my cover was a weak one and given their eagerness to keep you, it wouldn’t hold for long. Even if they did believe me, it was apparent they had no qualms with handling obstacles in their way. Farrow tried to kill me but he was too slow, too arrogant.”

 

She said it casually, as if she fought off would be killers all the time. She probably did.

 

“By the time I found their security room, T’Challa and N’Jadaka were already there. And we saw the test they arranged between you and Arthur. You did very well to hold your own, Jenna. I’m proud.”

 

I felt a flare of warmth in my chest and I smiled at her. But she simply gazed at me for a moment, her face saddened.

 

“It didn’t take long to hack into their servers, but we still had to work our way through the floor to get to the sector they were holding you. By the time we reached you…well….”

 

“Boom,” I said, mimicking an explosion with my hands. “Right?”

 

“Yes,” she sighed, “very unexpected.”

 

“Were you afraid?”

 

She blinked, and I knew she picked up on my hesitant tone.

 

 “I was alarmed,” she admitted, “cautious. But no. I wasn’t afraid. None of us were.”

 

“Why not?” I asked. “I blew up a building.”

 

“I’ve seen explosions before, Jenna,” she said dryly.

 

“It’s not the same thing, Nakia, and you know it.”

 

“No,” she agreed, “but I trusted you wouldn’t hurt me.”

 

_That’s a lie. You can hurt everyone._

 

I felt a tremor start in my hands at the sudden thought.

 

“And I didn’t want you to think I had abandoned you,” she continued.

 

_She should have. You belonged in that cell._

I shoved my trembling hands into my robe’s pockets, hissing at the voice in my head to shut up.

 

“…went missing I became even more worried, but T’Challa was determined to find you and I….”

 

_Should have stayed missing. No one’s safe. Not anymore._

“Shut up!”

 

Nakia blinked at my outburst, startled. I swallowed, feeling the tremor grow in my pockets, the thoughts still circulating in my mind.

 

“S-sorry,” I said and let out a shaky breath. “I…uh….”

 

Nakia studied me closely, her brown eyes searching mine. I turned my eyes away, afraid of what she may see in them. She placed a gentle hand on my knee.

 

“Jenna,” she said, “if you want to talk about…”

 

“What’s to talk about?” I interrupted quickly. “I got abducted, tortured, was potentially going to be raped, then I got abducted again and rescued. Score’s even, I’ve got new friends now and everything’s settled.”

“You’re deflecting,” she murmured, “and being sarcastic isn’t helping.”

 

I tried forcing my hands to be steady as I began piling the plates on the server tray. When I went to pick up the glass of water, my grip was too tight, and it shattered in my hand.

 

“Shit!”

 

Nakia moved instantly, her hand firmly tugging my wounded one into her lap.

 

“Sorry,” I said, “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

 

_You’re losing it._

I curled my other hand into a fist and pressed it firmly into the carpet. Neither of my hands would stop shaking.

 

“It’s all right,” Nakia said, her fingers gently removing the shards of glass.

 

“I mean, I’ve seen some pretty fucked up stuff,” I continued, watching as she carefully put each piece on tray. “And I was okay. I don’t know why this is different.”

 

“It is one thing to witness something than to experience it yourself. And you don’t have to be ashamed of what happened. It wasn’t your fault and you only….”  

 

_Reacted like an animal._

_“_ …to protect yourself.”

 

“Right,” I said softly.

 

Nakia placed a napkin in my hand and made my hand curl into a fist around it.

 

“Hold the pressure here while I grab the first aid kit.”

 

I nodded numbly and she rose and went into the bathroom. I opened my hand and stared at the large gash across my palm. Red swelled to the surface, thick droplets beginning to drip onto the plush carpet.

 

_“…you’ll make a good addition to my collection…”_

_“…the breeding program is in the preliminary stages…”_

“Shut up,” I whispered.

_“…you think you’re a person…”_

_  
“…never safe…not safe…”_

_“_ Shut up.”

 

“ _They will hunt you, breed you…”_

 

_“You’ll hurt everyone if…”_

“Shut up!”

 

I hadn’t meant to do it. I hadn’t meant to release an explosion of power when I slammed my bloody fist into the ground. It was hard enough that the floor shook, and the lights went out. I sat stunned in the darkness, my hand throbbing, horrified.

 

“Jenna?”

 

Nakia’s concerned call had me jerking to my feet and I stumbled towards the door. I yanked it open to find that even the emergency lights in the hall weren’t working.

 

Had I done that?

 

“Jenna!”

 

I turned, only able to glimpse Nakia’s shape in the shadows of the hotel room.

 

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled and took off, not looking back to see if she would follow.

 

_____________________

 

I used to be afraid of the dark when I was younger. My father would tuck me into bed, and I’d beg him to keep the nightlight on before he left. He’d pat the silk bonnet on my head and say that one day, I was going to have to learn to get used to the dark.

 

_“Once you understand the darkness, Jenna,” he’d say, “it’s just that much easier to appreciate the light.”_

 

My father had philosophical sayings for everything, a habit he picked up from his father. And it was also likely due to his profession as a literature professor at the local community college too.

 

But he was right. I did get used to the dark, though it was due to my abilities. Being able to tell where people just by my senses allowed me to avoid anyone I didn’t want to run into, even if I couldn’t see well. Aided by only the moonlight that streamed in through the hallway’s windows, I found an empty hotel room. I could sense there was no one inside I made my way to a room that had no energy signature inside. I used a small blast to break the door latch and slip inside.

 

It was a smaller room with two twin sized beds, a desk in the corner and a television in the middle of the room. I stood for a moment, feeling like I was losing it.

 

Air. I needed air.

 

I slipped out onto the balcony, feeling relief as the breeze cooled my heated skin. I slid down to the ground and leaned against the windowpane of the sliding doors and drew my legs to my chest. I stared ahead unseeing, my mind feeling frantic and lost. My left hand throbbed in my lap, but I ignored it.

 

_‘I'm going to kill him.’_

I slipped my eyes shut, not even willing to argue with that thought. I tried scrounging my memories for what happened during my attack, but I couldn’t. I had been lost inside of myself, some instinctual part taking over and destroying anything that was threatening. I wanted to kill Fervis for what he had turned me into. I wanted to….

 

I buried my face in my knees, my heart aching as I wept. I hated these thoughts; hated how I wasn’t feeling like myself.

 

“Yo, if you get sick, I don’t want to hear you complaining and shit.”

 

I jerked my head up, startled by the intrusion. Erik leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he stared down at me.

 

“What the fuck you doin’ out here?” he demanded, eying me. “Coming out here with just that on…”

 

I tugged at the end of my robe, my face heating as I glared at him.

 

“How did find me?” I asked.

 

“The smoldering doorknob was a giveaway,” he said dryly. “You planning on blowing up more shit here too?”

 

No. I did not want to deal with Erik’s shit right now.

 

“Go away,” I hissed.

 

It didn’t sound as threatening with my stuffy nose and he simply stepped out onto the balcony, unbothered.

 

“You’re hurt, he said, “can smell the blood on you.”

 

“What?” I asked startled, “how?”

 

He ignored my question and squatted in front of me. I tensed when he reached for my hand and tugged my wrist up. My hand still throbbed, the open wound still weeping. Erik kissed his teeth and dropped my hand before going back inside. I continued sniffling and wiping at my face with my right hand, feeling extremely stupid. He stepped back outside and squatted next to me again.

 

“Give me your hand.”

 

“No,” I said stubbornly.

 

“Girl,” he growled, “I ain’t in the fucking mood. Give me your hand.”

 

We glared at one another and it was only when my hand gave a sharp throb that I reluctantly stretched my hand out. He applied some ointment to the wound and began to wrap it carefully. His movements were precise, and I had to wonder at how he obtained this skill.  I also wondered why he was bothering in the first place. When he completed his task, he dropped my hand and tossed the kit in front of us before settling on the other side of the balcony. He leaned back against the wall as he studied me. His energy was neutral and I twitched, annoyed with his scrutiny.

 

“What?” I snapped.

 

“Just making sure you ain’t gone do nothing else stupid,” he said simply.  

 

I stared at him for a moment before looking straight ahead. My face felt puffy, my nose was stuffy, and the light breeze was now giving me the chills. He was right; it was stupid to be out here with just this robe on.  We sat in silence and I realized that he wasn’t going to make any attempts at starting a conversation. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, frowning when I realized he was still staring at me. I looked at him fully, glaring, but he only regarded me with a blank expression.

 

“What the fuck do you want?” I growled.

 

He just smirked at me and I realized he was purposely antagonizing me. My hands began to glow in my lap, but he simply tilted his head to the side.

 

“What, you gonna fight me?”  he asked, sounding almost amused.

 

“If you don’t leave me the fuck alone.”  


“Where’s the hostility coming from, ma?” he asked.  

 

It was a casual remark, but it deflated me. My hostility wasn’t warranted. At least not to him.

 

“I figured T’Challa would be the one to find me,” I mumbled. “Not you.”

 

“Chill. The nigga’s probably on his way. Power starts flickering and we can guess it’s probably something you’re doing. Nakia said you took off.”

 

The wind blew harshly, and I curled into myself, using one hand to keep my robe tugged down. When it died down, it left me shivering and I pressed a hand to my stomach pushing my energy out to warm myself. At least my hands had stopped trembling. Erik seemed content to simply watch me. I tried not to let it get to me; I knew that he knew it pissed me off and I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of reacting.

 

I spared him another glance, taking in the white tank top and jeans. I eyed the keloid scars along his arms, wondering. He had worn tank tops during training sessions and I had been able summarize that the scars covered his whole upper torso. I had questioned T’Challa and Nakia about it, but they had just given me evasive answers and to ask him myself. Good time as any, I guess.

 

“Where are the scars from?”

 

He rested his arms on his bent knees and regarded me without a response. I sighed and gave a frustrated gesture.

 

“Oh come on,” I muttered, “I mean, I know you were in the military or something before all this, right? Is it from fighting?”

 

“Does it look like it?”

 

The scars were clearly more than just someone missing their mark. There was a pattern to them, lined up in rows going up and down his arms.

 

“Are you always such a smartass?” I muttered.

 

I was met with just a smirk and more silence. Erik knew I was aware of what went down in Wakanda when he first arrived. I had never confronted him about it; after all, T’Challa said it was handled and honestly, he would be the one who Erik would need forgiveness from. Still, to know that at one point your cousin tried to kill you? I had to wonder at T’Challa’s level of mercy.

 

_Would he forgive me?_

 

I felt like I was losing it. The last few days had been a whirlwind of so many emotions that I hadn’t been able to pick them part. I hadn’t felt settled in a long time and my shields were shaky at best. Something was shifting inside of me; something that was responding to all of the stress and pain I had experienced.

 

Something I wasn’t sure I wanted.

 

I glanced at Erik again hesitantly, taking in the broadness of his shoulders, the solidness of his arms, the dark shadows of his eyes. I had learned enough about Erik to know that he wasn’t just a warrior; he was a killer too.  

  
“Was it easy?” I asked after a moment. “To do it?”

 

“Do what?”

I lifted my head to look at him, wondering if I really wanted to go down this line of questioning. I mean, I could ask Nakia, couldn’t I? Maybe she had been forced to take extreme measures out in the field. But even that would be different from what I really wanted to know.

Erik would get it; would understand the rage that simmer inside. I had felt his often enough that it was still there; lingering deep inside of him.

 “Look,” I said carefully, “I know…I mean if you were in the military you must have killed people, right?”

He just looked at me, his fingers flexing lightly.

“And if you were ready to do a whole coup, well, I can assume you didn’t really have a problem with doing it, right? Killing people?”  

There was a sudden emptiness in his eyes, one so still that I found my hands curling in my lap.

“What’s your point?” he asked flatly.

How much had he gone through to ever be able to do that? It was making the hair on the back of my neck stand up and I could _feel_ how closed off from me he was. Erik had withdrawn into himself so deeply that it was like feeling a cold, empty space across from me.

“Ok, knock that the fuck off,” I snapped, glaring at him. “If this is you making a point, I get it. You’ve got shit in your past that you don’t want to talk about.”

Erik blinked at me slowly and then, just like that, his energy lightened again. It was still that neutral energy, but there was more him behind his eyes than there was before. I let out a breath and rubbed my hands down my arms.

“Jesus,” I muttered. “How the hell do you know how to do that?”

“Didn’t know I was doing anything,” he remarked absently.

“It was like you were there, but you weren’t,” I said, shaking my head.

“Hn,” he grunted and regarded me curiously. “You always be feeling what other people feel?”

“You mean can I shut it off?”

“Yeah.”

“No, not really,” I said. “I can block people out if I want, but there’s no real off switch.”

“And you’ve been in fights before, right?” he prompted and I nodded. “You can sense what they’re feeling then, too?”

“Yeah,” I said. “They’re mostly angry and afraid.”

“Their fear don’t bother you?”

I blinked at the question and furrowed my brows at him.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Erik sighed and shifted, dropping one leg down. He kept one arm propped up as he regarded me.

“Does their fear stop you from going too far?”

I thought about it and nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” I said, “I mean. Most of them are assholes but when I sense their fear I feel like I’ve got my point across.”

“Then what you tripping for?”

I furrowed my brows at him in confusion. He rolled his eyes.

“I know you asking me how I can kill someone.”

Shit. Was I so fucking obvious to everyone?

“No, that’s not what…”

“Yeah,” he interrupted. “You asking me cause you want to know if you can do it.”

  
I stared at him; hating that I was right. And hating it even more that he could read it so easily in me.  

 

“You got this look,” Erik said, “like you’re fighting something inside.”

A tremor went through my hands and I clenched them in my lap.

“I’m not a killer,” I said softly, feeling like an echo.

“Who said you were?”

_You could be.._

I looked away and let out a shaky breath.

Erik snorted softly and I clenched my hands tighter.

“See that’s the problem,” he muttered, “everyone’s afraid to admit what they’re capable of.”

“What like you?” I muttered.

 “I know who I am and what I can do.”

I hesitantly glanced back at him, curious despite myself. 

“Was it hard then?” I asked softly.

“Nah.”

I could sense that he meant that. He was looking out the balcony, his gaze distant.  

“That’s the thing though,” he said, “Crossing the line isn’t the hardest thing to do. We can all justify why we decide to take that next step. Shit, everyone does it all the time. And if you got a good enough reason, well, hell, why not?”

I wasn’t sure if this was supposed to make me feel better or not.

“So, you think that I will,” I started hesitantly, “I mean… I won’t be able to stop myself from…”

“Nah,” he interrupted. “You ain’t the type.”

It startled me, how sure he sounded of that.

“What do you mean?”

 “The fact you even asking me all this shit shows you think more about people’s lives than you think you do,” he said. “They got a value on ‘em that you can’t just ignore.”

I stared at him, my heart pounding.

“But what if I'm not in control? What if I can’t…”

“When you lost it, you weren’t trying to kill,” he said, “just tried to keep people away from you. And when T stepped up, you calmed down. Your instincts aren’t to kill. Just to protect.”

The tremor slowed and I swallowed, feeling tears prick in my eyes. I wiped at them quickly as they fell. I knew that Erik wouldn’t lie to make me feel better. He didn’t seem like the type.

“So what about you?” I asked, sniffling quietly.  

“What about me?”

“Did you put value back on people’s lives? Or is it just as easy to kill?”

I winced as the questions left me, mentally lamenting at how callous they sounded. In an odd way, Erik was comforting me and I had to go and prod at shit I knew he didn’t want to talk about. But he simply lifted his gaze upwards, his face still in its neutral expression. 

“Nah, not really,” he answered.

“Uh…to which question?” I asked.

Erik dropped his gaze to meet mine and I could see the hint of irritation in his gaze. I widened my eyes slightly, trying to convey my genuine curiosity and he shook his head at me.

“Why ain’t you bothering T with all this shit?” he grumbled.

“Well, you’re the one who came looking for me,” I pointed out, “and I thought…well…”

I trialed off, not wanting to admit my impression of him. He smirked and cocked his head at me.

“Everyone knows I got a body count,” he said to my unspoken words.

I blew out a breath and rubbed my hand on the soft material of my robe.

“Yeah,” I said, “I mean. I’m not judging you. Or...well…”

“Yeah, you are,” he grumbled. “Everyone does.”

“Does that bother you?”

“I don’t give a shit about what people think about me. You do.”

I snorted at that.

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I really don’t,” I snapped.

“Then why’d you freak out? Why are you asking me all these fucking questions?”

I scowled at him, annoyed at being on the other end of the inquiries. 

“I don’t know,” I snapped.

“You do,” he muttered. “Shit, you just like Shae.”

“How?”

“Ya’ll both worry about stupid shit.”

“Being afraid that I’m going to turn into a killer is not stupid shit, Stevens.”

 

He arched a brow.

 

“You hear how stupid that sounds?”

 

“You weren’t there,” I hissed. “You don’t know what that bastard did to me or planned to do to me. You don’t know what he made me…”

I trailed off and looked away, my body trembling again. I hated how it felt like my control was slipping at just the thought of him.

“I want to kill him for what he did,” I said softly, “he turned me into something…made me lose it and I could have…”

“Then find something that won’t let you.”

I looked at him slowly, blinking at the serious expression he gave me.

“What?”

“You afraid of what you might become?”

I nodded.

“Then find something that’ll hurt more if you cross the line. Something that’ll bring you back, when nothing else will.”

It was the spark inside of him, that burned brighter than the rage that had me studying him closely.

“What is it for you?” I asked.

He said nothing and the spark closed inside of him as his energy became neutral. But I had to wonder. I remembered my conversation with T’Challa about their engagement and that Shae was a big part of Erik’s change of heart.

____________________________

 

Upon reflection, I was still coming to terms with my breakdown and it being Erik, of all people, who helped me gain some clarity. I had glimpses that I was beginning to fear myself and what it could mean for the people I cared about. And it turned out that Erik understood that better than anyone. Knowing what you’re capable of and the potential threat that it could be to the people around you.

 

When I had gotten myself under control, Erik escorted me back to my room. The lights in the hall had turned back on and I sensed Nakia was in her own room a few doors down. I would apologize to her about everything tomorrow.

 

I was mildly surprised to sense T’Challa’s energy in my room. He opened after one knock, his eyes filled with concern.   
  
“Hey,” I said and offered him a weak smile.

 

“Are you all right?”

I spared Erik a glance who raised a brow at me. I sighed, wondering if T’Challa was going to get tired of asking me that.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “I’m good.”

T’Challa nodded and turned his attention to Erik.

“Thank you,” T’Challa said and Erik shrugged.

“Now we’re even, cuz.”

T’Challa smirked at that and Erik turned away, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“Hey!”

He paused and glanced back at me.

“Thanks,” I said, “for…uh…you know.”

He grunted and strode away and I couldn't help but smile. I shouldn’t have expected anything more.

I turned to T’Challa and rubbed my heads down my robe nervously. He moved, allowing me to step into the room before closing the door behind me.

“Are you tired?” he asked.

That was it. No admonishing speech about how I’d lost control. No accusations or sounds of disappointment. I searched his face, trying to see if I could spot anything of the sort but couldn’t find anything.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” I said.

 

“Is this serious?”

 

He reached for my hand, his grip gentle as he rubbed a small circle on my knuckles with his thumb.

“No, not really.”

 

Brown eyes held mine for a moment and whatever he saw made him nod and drop my hand. I watched as he made his way towards the bathroom, confused.

 

“What are you doing?” I asked.

 

“I was going to prepare for bed.”

 

“You’re sleeping in here?”

 

He inclined his head slightly, pausing at the doorway.

 

“Would you prefer to be alone?”

 

I shook my head quickly, knowing instantly that wasn’t true.

 

“No.”

 

He nodded and entered the bathroom. I glanced around the room and noted that the dishes and tray were missing. There were spots of blood on the carpet and singe marks in a small circle. I stared at it for a moment and listened to the sound of running water in the bathroom. I shook myself and crawled into bed, grabbing the remote from the bedside table in the process. I flipped through the channels until I found re-runs of the _Fresh Prince of Bel-Air_ and sunk further into the bed.

 

I watched absently for a few moments until T’Challa stepped back into the room, dressed only in a pair of black linen pants. He spared a quick glance at the television before sliding into bed next to me. Leaning against the headboard, he tugged me into his side, slipping an arm around my shoulders as I rested against him. We stayed in that position for a while, the only sounds of the sitcom and laughter of the audience sounding in the room.

 

_Is he not going to say anything?_

I spared him a quick glance and found him still watching the tv, one of his fingers absently stroking a spot on my upper arm. If he noticed my gaze, he gave nothing away. I bit my lip, debating if I should even bother. I mean…if he didn’t want to bring it up, why should I?

 

I tried to let that thought content me as I turned my attention back to the television, but my conversation with Erik kept ruminating in my head.

 

 _Just get it over with_.

  
I sighed.

 

“Hey T?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

I shifted, making sure I could watch his face properly.

 

“Aren’t you going to say something?”

 

T’Challa tilted his head to meet my gaze, a brow raising.

 

“About what?”

 

I squinted at him, trying to figure out if he was joking or not.

 

“Did you see the carpet?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He held my gaze evenly and I shifted to sit up more fully, leaning against the headboard.

 

“And did you notice the power going out?”

 

“Yes.”

 

I inhaled deeply trying to control my temper, knowing it was warranted. His arm had dropped from around my shoulder and he crossed his arms as he watched me.

 

“So, were you going to ask me about those things or…?”

 

“You’ve been through a great deal, Jenna,” he said calmly, “I believed it would be best to have this conversation in the morning.”

 

I searched his face, wishing my senses were at one hundred again so I could pick up things better.

 

“Are you upset with me?”

 

His brows furrowed slightly and he frowned.

 

“Why I would be upset with you?” 

 

“I lost control,” I said quietly. “I don’t do that often.”

 

“You’ve been in some very trying circumstances,” he said simply, “your reaction isn’t uncommon.”

 

“I could have hurt someone,” I insisted. “Nakia was in the room and I could have…”

 

“But you didn’t.”

 

He was too calm. Too understanding. It irked something inside of me and I glared at him.

 

“Aren’t you pissed off?” I snapped. “I ruined everything.”

 

“We’ve had this discussion, Jenna.”

 

I shook my head, not quite sure why I was growing angrier.

 

“I’m a liability, T’Challa,” I insisted. “And we don’t know when you’re going to get the chance to get Fervis again. Or what he’s planning next. And I don’t know if I’m going to be able to control myself when I see him…I don’t know if…”

 

His fingers stroked down my arm before pulling my bandaged hand into his lap. I stared at him, trying to find something that indicated how he was feeling. He was shielded from me and his expression gave nothing away.

 

“Doesn’t any of that bother you?” I tried weakly.

 

When T’Challa lifted his gaze to meet mine, I swallowed at the fierceness in his eyes.

 

“Of course,” he said lowly. “I am more than upset, Jenna. Not only have you faced great harm, I do not have the man responsible for that. Do you think that I am not aware of the consequences of his escape? The complications that have arisen with the others who insist on keeping you in harm’s way?”

 

It was leaking out slowly; the shadows of the rage I had glimpsed before.

 

“I have been away from Wakanda too long with nothing to show for it. This man plans to destroy everything that is dear to me and I am met with more questions than answers the further I pursue him.”

 

He exhaled slowly and his energy retreated back behind his shield.

 

“But,” he said, his voice gentler now, “He will not escape justice and he and everyone who was involved will pay for what they have done. For that reason alone, I will not allow such worries to distract me from what is to me right now. And that is you.”

 

 


End file.
